


Working out Differences

by Higgystar



Series: Working out Differences Universe [1]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Au from about mid season 2, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 174,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kinkmeme [my own prompt in fact since the idea wouldn't go away]: Shane/Daryl the boys fight and Daryl doesn't mind that Shane is broader than he is. Despite both of their denial at initiating it, they begin to fight more often, each one trying to push the other until they snap and refusing to admit that they enjoy it.</p><p>After the farm gets overrun by a herd of walkers and the two of them get separated from the group the two of them have to work out their differences in order to survive both the world and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Daryl’s always been good at fighting. It’s not something he ever really learnt to do, it’s more a case of something that became a part of his life. His father made sure he knew how to take a punch and over the years Merle had taught him how to throw one back. He knows all the good spots to hit, where to catch someone off guard and how to blindside them without giving the game away. It’s stopped being something he even has to think about, it’s just natural nowadays.

He’s used to keeping himself on guard at all times, he sleeps lightly, learning to hunt meant he knew how to keep quiet and how to be unseen whilst knowing where everyone else was. A lifetime of bruises and broken bones had given him good instincts and let him know exactly how to keep himself safe and be aware of his surroundings. Daryl knows people usually find him to be an easy target, especially considering that he was more than likely standing beside Merle. When compared to his big brother he knew people were always more likely to try and take out whoever wasn’t Merle.

It had helped him learn how to assess a situation and get himself prepared for the first punch. People underestimated him and didn’t expect him to be able to take them down or give as good as he got. Years of fighting with the much older and much bigger Merle meant he knew how to ignore the hard hits and focus on giving jabs of his own, ignoring the large bruises against his skin and kicking out to hit where it hurt. It wasn’t even that he was small for his age, he was just smaller than Merle and really when it came down to it that was all he had for comparison.

Merle was tough, if he wasn’t high or drunk he was usually doing something physical to keep himself in shape and though he had a beer belly, Merle still had enough muscle and weight behind him to be a threat. Their height isn’t that different, but Merle had core muscle, a bulk to him that Daryl had never been able to gain since there had been a lack of food and different circumstances when he’d hit his teenage years. Instead Daryl had grown up quite wiry, his arms had built up through use of the crossbow and hunting, and though he wasn’t unfit, he didn’t have anywhere near the weight his brother and father had.

Others had called him lean, it wasn’t like he gave a shit about his appearance, but lean wasn’t exactly something he wished to be called. Merle had built up a lot of his bulk in prison and the army, with nothing else to do he’d simply worked out, scrapped his way to the top of the pack and used his knowledge of fighting to show himself as a threat. His brother always showed all his cards right away, making sure everyone knew he was able and willing to fight at all times.

In contrast Daryl preferred having the element of surprise and though he may not be as broad as Merle, he could fight just as good as that fucker despite the lack of weight. His dad had called him scrawny, poked at his side and sneered at being able to feel his ribs but not bothered to bring any food home to rectify it. Daryl hadn’t appreciated being hungry almost all the time, but he supposed he was grateful for the hunting knowledge and skills he’d been forced to learn simply to survive.

Life wasn’t exactly easy but to Daryl it never had been, so when the dead started roaming the landscape and trying to bite at him he’d adapted as well as he could. Using his bow to take them down and finding food as well as he knew how. For once he was grateful for being able to run quick, to know how to keep a low profile and seem easy prey. The sense of false security made others trust him and he knew it was easier to slit a throat when your target walked up to you willingly. He adapted as well as he could, and despite their differences and fights, the group wasn’t so bad to be around.

Well most of them anyway.

Shane has been getting worse since they got to the farm and though he agrees with some of the things the other man is saying, it’s his attitude that needs an adjustment. It goes from being irritating to down right pissing him off and it doesn’t take long for the two of them to end up in yet another fight. He hadn’t even been looking for one this time, instead Shane had followed him when he was going to look for Sophia and it was once they were past the tree line and out of earshot and view of the group that the other man had started on him.

“Why’d you keep doing this man? You’re wasting time and resources, we all know she’s dead, someone’s just gotta come out and say it to the rest of them.” Rolling his eyes a little Daryl sneers at the other man, hating his attitude and the way he just assumes he’s right about every little thing.

“She ain’t dead.” Daryl spits, not bringing his crossbow to the front of him, but tightening his grip on the strap anyway, relaxing at the feel of his knife on his belt if he needed it. “She’s a smart little girl, she’d get herself somewhere safe and hole up there if she got lost.”

Shane growls, licking at his lips in the heat of the day and doing that weight shifting thing he does when he’s trying to stop from lashing out. Daryl knows the kind of man Shane is, he can see the way he tries to keep himself in line, but there’s something inside of him that’s been broken by the end of the world and unlike himself, he just wasn’t prepared to cope with all of this. “Listen man, I know it might be hard for your dumbass to comprehend, but I’m a fucking cop okay? I know how long missing people have got till you’re looking for a body and fuck Sophia might have had a day before there were fucking walkers everywhere.”

He hates the man’s attitude and can’t help himself from stepping closer, needing to be heard and not wanting to show any weakness. Shane was the kind of guy you didn’t turn your back to, idiot was more animal than human in some respects and body language was one of them. So Daryl steps closer, lets himself stand a little taller and meets Shane’s gaze dead on when he speaks. “I ain’t fucking stupid, I know what your little cop hand book says and I know you idiots play by the rules and stop trying so hard after that day has passed and wonder why you never find them alive. Well I’m looking and I’m gonna find her, fuck your rules, ain’t you noticed? World ended, rules don’t apply anymore.”

He goes to shove him back, to leave it at that and get on with his search but just as he figured, that wasn’t enough for Shane and the heated words had just made whatever monster was inside of him want to roar even louder. Fingers grab at his wrist when he goes to turn away and Daryl finds himself yanked back, stumbling into Shane and shoving him away fruitlessly.

“You’re gonna end up getting yourself killed you fucking idiot.” Shane snarls, his grip tightening to the point where Daryl knows he’s going to have bruises, but he doesn’t look down or flinch. Shane would pounce on such an action and he won’t back down if the man wants a fight. “What is it with you Dixons huh? I know you’re gonna end up stuck somewhere and Rick’ll convince everyone to go find your sorry ass and we’ll waste time and effort doing it, just like we did with your fucking brother.”

“Hey leave Merle out of this you fucking pig!” He snarls in reply, seeing the spark in Shane’s eyes and how he knew this wasn’t going to end without getting physical. It was just becoming clearer now, Shane needed a way to air his frustrations and apparently he thought beating the fuck out of Daryl would help matters. Swallowing back the memories, Daryl wonders just how much more Shane and his father have in common. “We all know if you had your way, everyone would be dead but you, your best friend’s wife and kid.”

The first punch is thrown then and really Daryl isn’t surprised that it’s over the mention of Lori and Carl. He was a tracker, he knew how to see things others didn’t and honestly you’d have to be blind to not realise the two were fucking and making their own cosy little family before Rick came along. Shane still has a hold of his other wrist so he uses his other hand to feel his jaw, to check everything was working before he continued this ‘discussion’.

Daryl is quick to tackle Shane to the floor, gaining the upper hand for enough time to fling his crossbow away, not wanting it to get damaged and besides, he didn’t exactly trust Shane at the moment. Pinning the other man down for a moment he takes advantage of him losing his breath and delivers a few blows to his face, catching him off guard before Shane’s grappling for him again. They kick and punch, neither of them aiming anywhere in particular and just wanting to hit the other.

It’s everything Daryl remembers about a brawl, there’s no pulled punches or dramatic ways of avoiding a hit like the movies would have you believe. It was dirty and harsh, emphasised with heavy breathing, curse words and fingers pinching into skin. He fights dirty, wasn’t like he was going to get arrested for this and when you fought you had to fight to win.

So he kicks at Shane’s chest when the other man tries to pin him down, curling his legs up and shoving to get free. When Shane is up and kicking at his side he’s trying to roll away and get to his own feet, not wanting to leave his back exposed for any longer than he has to. The other man grabs at him again, going to his shoulders and trying to catch an arm and incapacitate him. It’s something he knows well and using his smaller stature he ducks beneath the grip, moving to tackle Shane around the waist into the dirt.

It’s a lot like wrestling Merle, except not as fun and with no tapping out. Instead he’s not laughing and when he tries to get a grip around Shane’s neck it’s more difficult than he remembers. Thick fingers dig into his arm, yanking and pulling, nails scratching at him until it’s lose enough for Shane to yank him forward, tipping him over onto his back on the ground and quickly scrambling to keep him down. Daryl snarls and spits at his face, trying to get his legs free and dislodge where Shane was kneeling over him, wrestling his hands down whilst jabbing at his ribs. It’s frustrating to be pinned like this and he gives a few feeble attempts at biting Shane when his arm comes within range.

That gets a chuckle out of the other man and makes Daryl angrier, pushing harder to get loose and catching Shane off guard with a punch to the head. The cop is panting hard, wiping at his now bleeding lip and watching him with a glare. Digging his fingers in to Shane’s side he shoves and pushes, hoping to at least causing some bruising and enough pain to get one of his legs free for a kick.

Shane counters by grabbing at his hair, tangling his fingers in the short strands and yanking until he’s yelping against the ground, trying to free himself and reach up to claw at Shane’s face. The cop fucking laughs, pulling his hair like a little bitch and smirking down at him. His weight is akin to Merle’s keeping Daryl pinned and not even giving him a chance to get free, not when he didn’t have enough leverage to get a start.

When it feels like his hair is being pulled out by the roots he reaches up with both hands to stop it, scratching at Shane’s hand and grabbing at his wrist, refusing to vocalise the pain but needing it to stop anyway. Shane pushes down on him, using his extra bulk to keep him down and Daryl hates when the man presses his free hand to his chest.

Daryl knows Shane isn’t that big, they’re practically the same height but the fucking prick was broader than he was, his shoulders and neck were thicker and right now all that weight was pressing down on him until he was grunting at the pressure. Years of training on the police force had made the man strong enough to keep him down, to catch him off guard with a hit to his side every so often and not allow him to loosen his fingers. When the hand moves up to clamp over his neck, Daryl tries not to panic.

Shane’s fingers dig in either side of his neck, one over his pulse point and he’s sure the other man can feel how fast his heart is beating. Panting harshly he glares up to the other man, squirming beneath him, digging his heels into the ground to try and buck him off. It doesn’t work and soon enough Shane is adding more pressure to his neck, making him cough and gasp for air when he can. It’s harsh and he wonders for a few terrifying seconds if Shane is actually going to kill him and be rid of the problem that he was.

When the fingers move away, Daryl gasps for breath, scrabbling harder at the fingers on his hair and twisting as much as he could to get free. Shane didn’t seem to be expecting him to recover quite as quickly and he’s caught off guard. Daryl moves as fast as he could, hooking a leg free and shoving against Shane’s shoulder, kicking the man back enough to get two legs free and almost howling as the shifting tugs on his scalp even more. It fucking burns and he doesn’t want to have a shitty new haircut like Shane does to hide the bald patches where it’s been torn out.

Closing his eyes against the pain he simply scrabbles for purchase, kicking and lashing out, grunting at the pain and trying to get loose from the bigger man. Shane almost has him down again, his free arm heavy across his chest and a leg reaching up to press a knee at his hip. It digs in, rubbing against his hip bone and making him grit his teeth against the discomfort. Punching at Shane’s ribs he tries to get him off, wanting to use the man’s superior weight to get him off balance and make him tip but it was harder than he thought.

The kiss really catches him off guard.

Though it’s not really a kiss, more a smash of their faces together, Shane’s stubble scraping over his chin and teeth biting at his lips in a smear of blood. He snarls, trying to headbutt Shane off of him and when the other man pins down his wrist to the ground he can’t stop the next kiss. It’s harsh and brutal, dirty and full of anger. Daryl doesn’t know if he wants it to stop or continue, but he continues pushing and shoving at Shane anyway, even as his hips buck up with no intent to get free. Shane doesn’t comment on it, just tugs on his hair again and bites at his lips, making Daryl taste copper and wetness of their blood mixing against his tongue.

He’s hard but from the action of Shane’s hips pressing down against his own, he can tell the other man is too. It’s so fucking wrong, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to fucking win. Shane straddles him on the floor again but Daryl refuses to make it easy, snarling and swearing, using his free hand to shove at the other man’s chest. Dirt and sweat covers them both, he knows they fucking stink and there are going to be questions about their bruises but right now there’s no way it can end like this.

Shane grinds down against him and whatever move he’d been going to make next flies from his mind at the pressure on his cock. Daryl doesn’t moan like a whore, but when Shane’s hand moves down to dig his fingers in his hip, he doesn’t use his now free arm to shove him off. Instead he fists at Shane’s shirt, making sure to dig his nails in any skin he can and shove harder into their next kiss. It burns and really the roughness of his jeans on his underwear clad cock is making this almost painful, the ache of bruises isn’t new to him but the taste of blood on someone else’s tongue is and it’s all too good to try and justify. Rocking into the next push of Shane’s hips he growls into the other man’s mouth, moving to bite at his lip.

The fingers at his hip clench, obviously leaving bruises to match the others around his neck and Shane grunts above him, eyes tightly shut and hips rocking continuously. It’s intense, making Daryl yank at Shane’s shirt to bring him back down, not caring how messy their kisses were or how their teeth clash every so often. Shane moves to his neck, biting and sucking, leaving welts on his skin and Daryl knows there’s going to be questions but he rocks his hips into the next thrust anyway and pants at the feeling.

It’s been far too long and the suddenness of it all is getting to Daryl, making him pant in Shane’s mouth and move his free hand up to yank at the other man’s hair so he can breathe for a moment. Each buck and thrust brings him closer, Shane presses him down harder into the floor, resting his full weight on him and making it hard to breathe. Everything aches and hurts, he’s shoving himself up into each movement fully and with a stifled noise of pleasure he’s coming in his underwear, bucking against the other man with a flush and enjoying the crushing weight far too much.

Shane continues, barely even seeming to notice his lack of fight anymore and continuing to dig in his fingers, to bite at his neck and move to kiss him hard. Each movement is more violent than the last and when Shane gives a grunt as he orgasms, it’s with one hand almost crushing Daryl’s wrist in his grip. Everything is too fucking loud all at once and though he still can’t catch his breath, Daryl finds himself wanting to continue their fight and prove himself.

The other man is boneless on top of him, giving Daryl the chance to shove him off of him, rolling out and away to his feet in a move well practised. He doesn’t mention the way his legs are still trembling from the unexpected orgasm, instead he aims a kick at Shane’s side and hopes it’ll fucking bruise in the morning. “Fuck you.” He spits, breath still not back and flush still painting his cheeks. “I’m gonna go find her.”

He doesn’t know if Shane heard him, or if he was even listening, and honestly he didn’t fucking care at the moment. Snatching up his bow he heads further away from camp, ignoring the heartbeat still pumping in his ears and the damp patch at his crotch. Glancing at his arms he wishes he’d worn sleeves today so he’d have something to cover them with but as if was the new bruises were beginning to form bright as day on his skin. He knows there are more on his chest and sides, and it’ll be difficult to explain the swollen jaw and cut lip, but the marks on his wrist were the worst.

Placing his own fingers over the marks he growls at the length and thickness of them, mocking him from his own flesh about how his hands looked in comparison. Storming through the trees he tries to take his mind off of it all, ignore the state he’d been in and that he allowed such a thing to happen. It had all been normal body reactions to being close to another human being. It wasn’t anything to do with Shane or his body or the feeling of being pinned beneath his larger form and forced to bear the weight. He didn’t care about any of that and neither did his cock, it was all just instinctive reactions and he couldn’t be blamed for any of it.

Still, he places his fingers over the bruises and shivers at the thought of the larger man pinning him down once more.


	2. Chapter 2

“Have you two been fighting again?”

Shane looks up from where he sits, squinting in the sunlight and cursing when the light makes his bruises and split lip even more obvious to Rick. Sighing a little he rubs his hand over the back of his head, wondering exactly why Rick cared so much if he and Daryl had been trading blows. Among other things. “He started it.” He shrugs in answer, trying to make Rick smile just for a second.

It doesn’t work and before long his best friend is pacing, jerking his head for Shane to get up and follow him away from the group to have a more private conversation. He hates seeing Rick like this, so tense and on edge all the time, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Shane we’re not in school anymore, we’re guests here at Hershel’s farm and how do you think he’s going to feel about letting us stay when our own group keep fighting? Is that the kind of people you’d want around your family?” Rick practically hisses at him, worked up over something and making Shane worry about Carl immediately.

He tries to calm the situation, wanting to explain himself for Rick and let him know that it wasn’t like it was his fault. “Rick that asshole had it coming all right? Damned redneck keeps pushing me man.” It’s enough for Rick to understand, he knows how Shane reacts to being pushed, he pushes back twice as hard.

Even if he does get it Rick doesn’t relax, instead pacing a little back and forth before moving closer, his voice a raised whisper. “I don’t give a shit anymore Shane. Lori’s pregnant.” And like that it’s all so obvious. The way Rick was tense, on the verge of panic and elation at the news, but the fear of this new world overtaking him when he could barely protect his current son.

The thing is, Shane knows it’s his. There’s no way that Lori would be able to tell if it were Rick’s, she wouldn’t be far enough along to have any symptoms, the baby had to be his. He had a baby on the way and a best friend wanting to protect it more than anything in the world, to the point that Rick was stressing himself out over it. He feels he should give some sort of congratulations, but it wouldn’t be sincere and he won’t do that to Rick. Not right now.

Tensing a little he holds his shotgun a little tighter, feeling the want to go and find Lori and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing not telling him about this. Instead he watches Rick and listens when his friend continues talking. “I have to think about my family and right now this is the safest place for them to be and I will not have the pair of you screw this up.”

Lori was pregnant with his kid and without even knowing it he was screwing up the chance for that baby to have somewhere safe to be. Fuck he was already a shit dad and he’d just found out about being one. Taking a deep breath he meets Rick’s eyes, trying to let him know that he would do anything right now to protect his family, even if Rick thought it was his. “What do you want me to do Rick? Shake his hand? Kiss his ass? Dixon ain’t worth my time.”

He can’t see how he’s going to help at all. By the sounds of it Rick wanted him to fix this problem, but really what was there he could do? Dixon was as stubborn as he was and he knew the other man wasn’t exactly going to be wanting to see him after what had happened. Honestly it would be better to just let it go and leave it, but Rick wasn’t the sort of guy to let that happen, he liked apologies and tying up loose ends neatly.

“What about us?” Rick hisses, gesturing between the two of them. “What about me Shane? We don’t know what Hershel will decide, maybe he’ll let me Lori and Carl stay, but kick you out. I’ve already lost you once Shane, it’s not happening again.” And like that Lori is pushed to the back of his mind for a second and he remembers seeing Rick go down, holding him steady and trying to talk him through the shock of taking a bullet. He’d spent nearly every day at that hospital talking to him, wanting him to wake up and crack a joke with him again.

His best friend had been shot and then the world had gone to hell, leaving him clinging to the only family he gave a damn about and the last tie he had to Rick. How things had progressed hadn’t exactly been planned, but they happened and despite everything he felt for Lori he still remembers wanting to fucking cry when Rick walked down that path to the quarry. It was unreal, as if he was being rewarded for getting through all the shit and Rick was allowed to be at his side again, healthy and happy.

Sure he had moments of hating the other man’s guts for waltzing in and having what he wanted. Lori immediately jumping ship and leaving him feeling as if all he’d done for her and Carl was for nothing, leaving him jealous of Rick for having her back and sometimes even wishing he really had died in the hospital. But then there’s the moments when Carl was shot and he’d held his best friend close, seen the need in his eyes for someone to be strong for him for once and damn Shane knew he couldn’t refuse Rick when he was like that.

This man was his best friend, and despite all the shit he’d been thinking and planning, that fact remained strong. Shifting his weight a little he shakes his head with a small laugh, looking to Rick with a grin. “Damn man pulling the best friend card on me huh? That’s a cheap shot.” And like that the seriousness of it all is lifted and he’s out here at the end of the world with his best friend.

Rick grins back, the smile making the skin at the edge of his eyes crinkle, making him look younger in his mirth. “Hey I play dirty when its important.” He shrugs, clapping a hand on Shane’s shoulder and he can see the tension slowly leave his body, as if all the stress has been taken away from him. “I just want you to try Shane, that’s all I’m asking.”

“Fine, I’ll try to be all buddy buddy with the mighty squirrel hunter, any suggestions? Somehow I don’t think he’d be up for a game of checkers.” He snorts, not looking forward to having to play nice with the little asshole, but if it kept Rick from looking so weary and gave Lori the chance to stay here with his baby then he’d give it a shot.

“He wants to go search for Sophia again, I told him he wasn’t going on his own after what happened last time.” His friend imitates a gun with his hand, pressing the tip of his finger to his forehead before cocking his thumb like the hammer. Shane snorts at the memory, since no one had died he could look back at Andrea’s stupidity and laugh. “Why don’t you go with him? He’d appreciate being able to go look and you know two pairs of eyes are better than one, if you’re lucky maybe he’ll even teach you how to hunt.” Rick shrugs and Shane can’t help but chuckle at the thought of Daryl even being willing to talk to him let alone teach him anything.

“A whole day of just me, Daryl and a bunch of squirrels.” He sighs and checks his gun, the thing wasn’t loaded since they were within boundaries, but it never hurt to check it over. “Well don’t that just sound like a whole bunch of fun?” Rick smiles, happy, calmer than before and claps him on the shoulder before Shane heads off to get ammo for the day.

Shane watches as Rick heads back inside to the house, probably going to reassure Lori that he was trying to fix it for them to stay in whatever way he could. It was good that Lori would know, maybe she’d see he could be responsible and a good father to their baby. Christ he couldn’t think on that right now, not when he had to deal with Dixon and have his wits about him. Grabbing some ammo for his shotgun and sidearm he checks his knife on his belt before striding towards where Daryl had set up his own tent, far off from their group. The man was fucking ridiculous sometimes.

“Hey Dixon!” He calls as he approaches, noting the way Daryl is immediately on his feet and braced for a hit when he sees him, clearly the other man didn’t know to stop once you’ve been beaten. “Get your shit, we’re going to look for Sophia.” Shane doesn’t take a moment to stop, instead striding past Daryl to the tree line and listening to the sound of the other man debate for a second before snatching up his bow and hurrying after him. So the man might be a dick, but least he was willing to ignore his own wants if it meant getting to look for a little girl.

He’s already pretty far in when Daryl catches up to him, the man is fucking quiet and it’s only when Shane catches him in his peripheral vision that he knows for sure he’s there. There’s a look on the other man’s face that Shane can’t quite pin down, he’s not sure if Daryl is going to just burst out yelling or give him the silent treatment all day. Honestly he thinks he’d prefer the former, at least then it would drown out the quiet of the world around them.

It’s almost as if the world had died around them, the silence was heavy and made Shane uncomfortable whereas it seemed Daryl was in his element, moving across the leaves with barely a sound and keeping his wits about him. Daryl leads the way after a while, getting Shane to follow him to where he’d been when he found the doll, standing on the creek bed and searching for some kind of tracks. Shane gives a sigh, keeping a lookout for any walkers and not bringing up his lack of confidence in tracing Sophia. To him this whole thing felt foolish, a waste of time and energy, but no matter how many days passed Daryl seemed to have faith that he’d find the little girl.

“Sophia!”

Shane turns to glare at Daryl when he yells, hissing through his teeth and scanning the woods for any walkers. “Quit fucking yelling man! You wanna bring every walker down on us?” He calls Daryl out, trying to keep his voice low enough not to echo around but wanting to make sure the other man knew he was pissing him off.

Daryl scoffs, spitting into the stream and wading into it a few feet, keeping his crossbow at the ready and not even looking to Shane as he replies. “If it lets Sophia hear us then yeah, I’ll take a few walkers no problem.” As if it was that easy and Shane was a fool for wanting to keep danger at bay.

Giving a sigh he follows the other man as he scans the opposite bank, wading through the water and keeping his voice low. “She ain’t gonna hear, told you before she’s dead already.” To him it’s just a fact by now and even though he doesn’t want to speak ill of a dead little girl, nothing else seemed to be getting through to Daryl.

The other man is pissed and all the anger Shane had thought he’d been trying to hide all come out in one burst. “Then why’d you wanna come help look for her then? Or was this all to get me alone huh? Think I’m gonna let you hump me like a dog again you fucking pervert?” Daryl is in his face, search forgotten for a moment as he jabs at Shane’s chest, riling him up again and fuck he just wants to punch the little shit to the ground.

“Hey if I remember right you didn’t exactly ask me to stop, if anything you’re the pervert.” He spits back, never one to back down from a fight and heck so long as it didn’t come to blows Rick would never have to know, they were far enough away from the camp to not be heard and Daryl wouldn’t be a tattle tale.

“Fuck you.” Daryl hisses, kicking at the water between them, frustrated and pacing as well as he could before him, glaring all the while. “Using a lost little girl as an excuse to come out here and piss me off. Go back and fuck Lori if you’re so desperate, leave me alone, I’ll find her myself.” And with that Daryl is walking away from him up river, pushing through the current seemingly uncaring of whether Shane followed him or not.

“Cause that worked so well last time didn’t it?” Shane scoffs, hating the water in his boots but following the other man, still trying to win their fight anyway he could. “Nah I think I’ll stay here, make sure you don’t go stabbing yourself with your own arrow again, after all Rick sent me to keep an eye on you.”

That makes Daryl pause, glaring over his shoulder to him and seeming to look unsure if he was telling the truth. Shane wasn’t sure if he was right, but he swore the man looked hurt at the thought of Rick not trusting him to come back safely. Eventually Daryl snaps back to anger, shoving at Shane again and yelling in his face. “Don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me! Bet he only sent you out here to keep you away from his wife, heck he’s probably screwing her right now and making sure she don’t even remember you exi-“

Honestly Shane doesn’t realise he’s punched Daryl until he’s splashed by the water that flicks up when he falls into the stream. The droplets spatter over his chest and face, making him blink them away before staring down to where Daryl was grunting in pain and trying to stop a rather vicious nose bleed. The water runs around them, tainted with blood and swirling past Shane’s feet, pooling around Daryl before carrying on down stream.

There’s a moment of pause between them, just a second where they’re left staring at each other and waiting for the other to make the first move.

Then it’s gone and Daryl is kicking at him whilst flinging his crossbow to the side of the creek, out of harms way as Shane does the same with his shotgun, glad the safety was on as he did so. Dodging from the kick Shane stumbles a little on the loose pebbles beneath his boots and when Daryl barrels into him full force there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from falling into the water. It’s only a few inches deep, but you didn’t need much to drown a man and he’d be damned if that was Daryl’s plan for him.

Fighting in the water is harder than he thought, the added resistance makes swinging back for a good punch more difficult and though he does manage to catch Daryl off guard and clip the side of his head, it’s not with a lot of finesse. Moving to get a better position he grabs at Daryl’s sides, grunting as he’s scratched and hit, Daryl fighting dirty and even aiming between his legs a few times. Wrapping his arms around the smaller man he manages to get him beneath him somehow, arms pinned to his sides with Shane pressed against his back.

“Let me go!” Daryl yells, his voice rising above the trickle of the stream and echoing around them in the creek. They’re both soaked through, clothing clinging to their bodies and fuck Shane can feel what this is doing to him again and from the catch in Daryl’s voice he can tell he’s not the only one. “F-fucking cop, I ain’t no bitch, lemme go!” Daryl struggles, squirming against Shane, making it harder to restrain him and a lot more difficult to keep him down. Using his weight Shane keeps him down, both of them kneeling in the water, wet and hard but mostly angry.

Blood drips down Shane’s arm from Daryl’s nose, trickling to fall into the water and drift downstream. He hates what Daryl had made him do, but as he’s told Rick, the other man started all this. “Ain’t no bitch huh? Then why’d you come running when I told you to follow hm?” He swears Daryl blushes and fuck if that ain’t a pretty sight. “You keep saying I planned this, well I think it’s the other way round.” Digging in his fingers to Daryl’s arm he keeps him clamped in place with one arm, letting a hand snake down to cup at his crotch, getting a small gasp from the other man. “Maybe you were just looking for a chance to come out here with me huh? Lead me deep into the woods before starting a fight, yeah that sounds just like you Dixon.”

“I ain’t! I ain’t like that!” Daryl spits, but his breath is hitched and Shane can fucking feel the way the man is pressing back against him, there’s no chance of dislodging him, so there can only be one other reason for it. Grinding himself against the other man even the sound of the river can’t hide the breathy moan Daryl makes at the motion. “I…I ain’t…”

“Oh you are.” Shane grins, feeling his cock twitch in want as he pressed against Daryl, wanting to make the man give in to his wants all because of him. “I fucking know you are. Maybe you can’t admit it to yourself, but your cock says otherwise.” Pressing against the other man’s stomach he guides his hand down beneath his clothing, making Daryl struggle again, but suspiciously not trying to get his arms free. “Yeah see? This proves you’re a dirty little liar Daryl.”

Shane curls his fingers about Daryl’s cock, hand wet from the water and the amount of liquid swirling around them means everything is soaking, from fabric to skin and fuck it makes it even more intense. “Fu-fuck you.” Daryl’s not shouting anymore, he’s barely even speaking his voice is so quiet and Shane gives a low moan, squeezing Daryl’s cock in time with his own grinding against his rear.

“You want this.” He growls into Daryl’s ear, hard and wanting as he pumps at the other man’s cock, feeling the warmth of it in the cold stream and enjoying the way Daryl shivers and bucks into his touch with a light moan. “Fucking desperate for it I’d say. Bet you lie in that tent so far away from everyone so they can’t hear you moaning, touching yourself, biting your lip to try and stop from being so loud.” He moans himself, grinding against Daryl and feeling a spark of pride flare within himself when Daryl’s fingers move to tangle in the wet fabric of Shane’s jeans.

There’s no denial from Daryl and Shane isn’t surprised to find that he was biting his lower lip, clamping it between his teeth as he pressed back, giving in to what he wants. Daryl is practically on his lap, panting and moaning, soaking wet and thrusting into his fist. There’s no way he could claim to not want this, not when Shane carefully releases his arm from around Daryl’s chest and moves to stroke over his own crotch.

“Yeah look at you.” He groans, fumbling to unbutton his jeans as best he can and stroke himself in time with Daryl, leaning onto the other man’s shoulders and feeling every hitch in his breath. “Christ I bet you wish I’d do all sorts of things to you, bend you over maybe?” He teases, rubbing his thumb over the head of Daryl’s cock, feeling the way he tenses, fingers clamping on his jeans before his entire body shudders. “Oh was that a little too exciting to think about?” Pumping at Daryl’s cock loosely he can feel the pulse through it, squirting his come into the water surrounding them and being swept away with the current.

Daryl fucking whines, slumping back against him, cock still twitching in Shane’s grasp and fuck there’s something so good about making this man come undone. Moaning to himself he releases Daryl’s member to slide his arm back around his waist, keeping him on his lap and stroking his cock. Pressing his forehead to Daryl’s shoulder blades he strokes himself quickly, feeling the pressure building inside of him.

“Yeah you’d like that. Having me make you bend over and take you, I bet you’ve thought about my cock all night haven’t you? Wanting to feel it, know how deep I could pound you and make you fucking moan like a bitch.” The thought of it dances in front of his eyes, making Daryl take him completely, whining and moaning like a whore as he fucked him hard. Groaning deeply he pulls Daryl back against his chest, feeling his cock jerk through his orgasm, come falling above the water to smear on Daryl’s lower back.

Remaining pressed between his shoulder blades, Shane pants his way through the pleasure, feeling Daryl trembling in his arms. Slowly he reaches up to wipe a finger through his come, helping the mess slide down Daryl’s clothing to swirl in the water around them. He can’t do anything more than smirk at the sight, Daryl Dixon still in his lap in the middle of a stream and completely spent just because of his words and hands.

It takes a few moments for them both to recover, but it’s not until he leans up to press a kiss to Daryl’s neck that the other man reacts, on his feet in a second and shoving at Shane until he’s flat back in the water. Daryl doesn’t kick him, doesn’t try to hold him under the surface or even look at him. Instead the man stomps through the water, blood smeared across his face from the nosebleed as he hooks up his bow. For a second Shane wonders if he’s going to be on the receiving end of an arrow, but Daryl doesn’t even glance his way, instead scrambling up the bank and away into the woods.

Getting up out of the water Shane shakes himself off as much as possible, feeling his clothing stick to him uncomfortably when he moves. Fixing his jeans back into place he stoops to grab his shotgun, checking around them and finding the area fortunately clear of walkers. He had to stop getting distracted by Daryl long enough to check they were clear.

He can hear the other man calling for Sophia, yelling at the top of his lungs again and calling to no one. It doesn’t seem to matter how much Shane tries to tell him, Daryl just wouldn’t accept defeat gracefully. Climbing the muddy bank he doesn’t follow Daryl, instead heading back towards the farm he lingers at the edge of the woodland, more than happy to sit and wait for Daryl to return, ready to walk into camp with him and give Rick a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh no, it appears that yet again a one shot fill for a prompt is going to become a multiple chapter fill. What a shame! :3


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl doesn’t have answers as to why he lets this thing carry on. The next few days continue in much the same vein, he and Shane heading off to search for Sophia, spending the whole day out there actually looking before descending into a fight followed by something Daryl wouldn’t admit he enjoyed. It was fucking stupid and every day he told himself he wouldn’t give in the next time, but then they be out there, shouting and scrapping and somewhere between punching Shane’s ribs and hissing at a kick to his side, they’d end up doing something else.

He feels stupid afterwards every single time and for a while he can’t look Shane in the eyes or even be around the other man. It shouldn’t affect him so much, but every time they begin shouting at each other he begins to get excited at what he knows is coming next. Every night in his tent he beats himself up over it, thinking about what Merle would say, what everyone else would say if they knew and the only reason he knows they don’t is because they haven’t been looking at him any different.

Rick certainly doesn’t know. The other man had caught him when he’d come back one evening with Shane, calling him over for a private word and fuck if his nerves had begun at the thought of him knowing. “So I see you two are getting along better, I’m glad.” Daryl hadn’t been able to stop from glancing to Shane, wondering if this was some huge prank the best friends were playing on him together. The other man had smirked, strutting off to camp without giving him any kind of hint to settle his nerves.

He’d shrugged trying not to make a big deal of it and not giving any reaction if he could help it, there was no need to give Rick ammunition. The other man had been nodding, hands on his hips and watching Hershel and his daughters check the horses into the stable for the night. “It’s a relief to be honest, Hershel is warming up to the idea of letting us stay and with the two of you getting on better and quitting the fighting he won’t be so eager to move us on.”

So that was it. He’d told Shane to play nice and that was how the other man got him under control? They were still fighting, but maybe that’s why Shane hadn’t been aiming for his face as much, pulling punches and moving on to the second half of their routine quicker than before. Damn, he feels like an idiot. “Guess so.” He answers, shouldering his bow and glancing back at the farmhouse, wondering if that was really what he wanted. Sure there was good hunting here, they had plenty of food and fresh water, but really the thing putting him off was so many people.

“You’re really becoming a part of the group Daryl and we’re glad to have you.”

Daryl had spent that night mulling over Rick’s words, not getting much sleep and spending the time staring at the top of the tent. Honestly he still wasn’t completely comfortable with these people, but he was getting better and they weren’t too bad; aside from the whole shooting him thing. Rick was a decent guy, Carol was a nice caring lady and heck he didn’t even mind Glenn or T-Dog. All of them were growing on him, even the old man and his stupid hat, Andrea was better now she weren’t moping over her sister and despite being a bitch sometimes Lori could be all right as well as her tough little kid.

He could deal with all of them and if the Greene’s were willing to let them stay and use their resources he could make nice with them too. The real issue was Shane. The other man was a complete dick with an ego the size of Georgia and a mean streak in him a mile wide. He grated on every one of Daryl’s last nerves, trying to make him feel inferior and saying every single thing that bothered him about himself. Daryl knew he weren’t perfect, heck his whole life he’d been told it, but the other man makes him doubt himself and that really pisses him off.

Shane was a bastard who fucked his best friend’s wife, refused to believe in a little girl and for some stupid reason decided to spend most of the day out in the woods with him instead of teaching Andrea to shoot. He knew the woman had been asking, giving him that smile and standing in a way Daryl knew was meant to be flirtatious. Yet every day Shane was there walking beside him, combing through the woods for a girl he believed to be dead, killing walkers alongside him and then spitting spiteful words until Daryl is pinned beneath him.

It’s stupid. He feels stupid to look forward to it when clearly it was just a mix of lust and doing what Rick wanted, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say he enjoyed it. Shane wasn’t exactly bad to look at and the man clearly knew what he was doing which helped when Daryl was usually too busy being overwhelmed to think straight. He knew most of the insults he spat at Shane were directed towards himself, things Merle would say if he ever found out about his latest addiction. Yet between the guilt and the self-loathing, he still went back for more and didn’t protest.

Maybe he could get used to living with the group.

Walking with Shane to the woods the next day he can feel something is off, the other man is already tense before they’ve even gotten started, each of his steps is more determined than the last and soon enough Daryl is following him through the woods. He doesn’t ask what’s bothering him, of course he doesn’t it’s none of his business and it’s not like he gives a shit. Instead he focuses on searching for Sophia, keeping his eyes open and looking for any tracks that weren’t from a walker.

Between them they kill seven walkers, the most they’ve seen in one day, and Daryl notices the way Shane is much more vicious than usual. Not just downing them with a stab to the head, but kicking at them once they’re down, stabbing their chest, punching and hitting them with the butt of his shotgun until all that’s left is a bloody mess on the floor. He still doesn’t ask, just waits for the panting man to be finished before following him deeper into the woods.

They don’t speak, the eerie noises of empty woodland surround them throughout the day, Daryl continues searching but not calling out this time, for some reason it doesn’t seem right to speak at all. Shane doesn’t seem to care what he’s doing, just storming through the leaves angrily, clearly deep in thought about whatever’s bothering him and practically ignoring him. Daryl knows he shouldn’t care so much about that.

The hours pass by, they kill three more walkers and search a small hut for any signs of Sophia, with nothing to show for it. Glancing up at where the sun is Daryl knows they’d better start heading back to the farm, being out after dark wasn’t going to help anyone and he didn’t need people thinking they needed a search party. Giving a sigh he uses his knife to mark a tree, giving himself a marker for the next day and maybe something for Sophia to notice. “Should start heading back, don’t think we’re going to find anything.” It’s the first time he’s spoken and it sounds louder than usual in the silence between them, Shane not even acknowledging him as he goes to walk past him.

Fingers snatch his bow from his grip, Shane drops his gun to the floor and before Daryl can even ask what the hell he’s doing, the other man has him pinned to a tree, shoving against him and kissing him hard. It’s not what he’s used to and that’s the excuse he tells himself when he parts his lips without protest, letting Shane shove his tongue inside his mouth. There had been no fighting, no prelude to this and for a moment that worries him that maybe this was too far from what this thing between them was meant to be.

So he kisses Shane harder, biting at his lips, shoving against his body and fighting as hard as he can, not protesting, but just needing something familiar. Shane growls, shoves him harder against the tree, fingers bruising around his wrists and keeping him there, using his superior weight to his advantage. It’s enough and Daryl doesn’t feel so guilty when he presses closer with a low moan.

It’s rough and hard, the tree digs into his spine in the most uncomfortable way, Shane’s weight makes it hard to breathe and fuck it’s making him just want more. He’s panting between each kiss, wishing he didn’t have to breathe so they didn’t have to stop, feeling Shane’s stubble graze against his chin and the man’s teeth catch on his tongue. When Shane releases his wrists from his grip Daryl doesn’t push him away, instead snarling his fingers into Shane’s shirt and yanking him closer, grinding against him desperately.

Shane’s fingers move up to catch in his hair, pulling Daryl’s head to the side before moving to bite at his neck. It hurts but in the best way, in a way that burns and lets him know there’s going to be bruising afterwards. When Shane’s free hand moves to press at his crotch Daryl can’t help but moan loudly, eyes closed at the feeling and enjoying the way the other man groans into his neck.

“Say you want me.” Shane growls and for a moment Daryl isn’t sure if he’s hearing things. But he hesitates too long and Shane is pulling back to look him in the eye, glaring and increasing the grip on his hair and crotch. It tugs at his scalp but the extra pressure on his cock makes him arch into it anyway. “Say it.”

“I…” He’s breathless, his voice sounds pathetic and usually he’d tell Shane to go fuck himself he didn’t want to be near the ugly fucker. But as it was he didn’t think he could deny it even to himself right now and not when Shane is grinding against him, making them both moan in the silence of the woodland. “I want you.”

Despite his voice being hoarse with lust it seems to be good enough for Shane and the man is at his neck again, biting and scratching his skin with the stubble on his cheek. Daryl isn’t sure what this is but fuck he isn’t going to protest and ruin it. Not when Shane is stroking him through his pants, letting go of his hair to begin unbuckling his belt and making him feel like this. It’s like everything is in a haze right now, he can barely focus so when Shane moves to grab his hips and spin him in place, pressing against his back with a groan and yanking down his pants and underwear.

That wonderful mouth is back on his neck, biting at him as Daryl braces himself against the tree, the sound of Shane undoing his own belt loud enough in his ears that he almost doesn’t hear it. It’s not until Shane drags his mouth off his neck to suck on his own fingers that Daryl can focus enough to realise the buzzing wasn’t in his head, but above them. Now really wasn’t the time to get distracted, he needed to stay unfocussed before he came to his senses, but he swears the sound is getting louder.

Peering up around the branches he holds out a hand to stop Shane from carrying on, ignoring the muttered curse and blinking to clear his vision and make sure he wasn’t going insane. “Shane..”

“Don’t pussy out on me now man.”

“Shane there’s a fucking chopper.”

The moment is broken and they’re both staring up, watching the helicopter whirr overhead towards them, nothing more than a dark smear in the sky but enough for them to be sure it was real. Shane moves first, fixing his pants before grabbing their weapons, leaving Daryl to scramble and yank his own pants up, stumbling over himself to follow Shane as he fixes his belt. The chopper is heading towards the farm, if they could get there where it was open maybe they could flag it down and get some help or something. Catching up with Shane he takes his crossbow, ignoring the heat in his skin and the feel of bite marks on his neck to focus on running without breaking his neck.

All he can hear is the sound of the helicopter’s blades cutting through the air, a sound he never thought he’d be glad to hear and a glimmer of hope sparks through himself. This could be what they were waiting for, some answers and help, maybe there was somewhere safe to go and they were searching for survivors or something. They could have a chance, this could be the end of it.

His feet pound against the ground, his legs are burning and fuck it’s like he can’t get enough air but he wasn’t going to fucking stop. Shane is ahead of him, leading him back the way they came, kicking up leaves in his path and fuck he really thinks this could be an actual safe bet for them all.

Daryl doesn’t notice Shane has stopped until he slams into the back of him, making him curse and want to know why the fucker wasn’t moving. Before he can open his mouth or catch his breath to breath Shane’s grabbing him, wrapping one arm around him and another over his mouth, yanking him behind a tree and pinning him there with his back to the bigger man’s chest. Squirming a little Daryl wants to spit that this isn’t the time to try and finish what they started, but when he goes to yell from behind Shane’s fingers the other man whispers into his ear first. “Shut the fuck up of they’ll hear you.”

In a second he freezes, holding his bow closer to his chest and hoping that Shane was kidding. When he’s calm and quiet Shane takes his hand away from his mouth and Daryl pretends he doesn’t notice the arm still around his chest as he slowly peers around the tree to see why they’ve had to stop.

The herd must be at least a few hundred strong, each walker stumbling its way after the chopper, snarling and groaning and fuck Daryl wonders why the shit they hadn’t heard it before. They can’t get through and the fucking things are blocking the way and he knows if they try and take out any then they’ll be all over the pair of them. Slipping back behind the tree he feels Shane pull him a little closer, both of them pressing back and catching their breath as quietly as they can.

He doesn’t know what to do. If the herd are following the chopper then they’ll go towards the farm, if they catch the scent of the rest of the group or if someone cuts themselves or fires a weapon they’ll be on the farmhouse in minutes. There was no way they could protect themselves from that, not even the fences could hold that lot out. Shane and he couldn’t lure them away either, they’d be overrun eventually and even if they got a headshot every time they only had so much ammo between them.

For the moment he takes comfort in the fact that the herd haven’t seen or heard them, and the feel of Shane’s arm around his chest holding him steady. They can’t stay here, they’re far too close and need to get somewhere safe before they’re discovered. Patting at Shane’s arm for his attention he nods for him to follow him, staying low and trying to use as much cover as he can whilst slowly heading back the way they came. It may be away from the farm but they knew that way was clear.

His heart is beating so loud in his chest he swears the walkers are going to hear it but as much as he wants to sprint away he knows they need some kind of distance before they do that or else they’d be heard. The sound of the chopper gets further and further away and Daryl hopes that the others can flag it down and get to safety before the herd reaches them. It takes a while and a lot of frantic glances behind himself to check they haven’t been seen and that Shane is still there.

He shouldn’t feel more relief at the second being true as well.

When they’re a good distance away he pauses, turning to Shane but keeping his voice low all the same. “What the fuck do we do? They’re heading for the farm.” And so what if he’s starting to give a shit about those people back there? No one deserved to get torn apart by a herd.

Shane looks fucking panicked and Daryl really doesn’t like that look on a man that seems to have a plan for everything. The man is nodding as if that’ll help, clutching his shotgun tighter and licking at his lips, clearly thinking for any semblance of an idea. “The highway.” He finally says, nodding for Daryl to follow him now and beginning a light jog for the two of them. “We go back to the highway where we first lost Sophia, we didn’t get to siphon all the cars before the herd. There’s got to be one there we can grab and get to the farm by the roads.”

It’s a plan. He doesn’t know if it’ll work and judging by where the sun is in the sky he doesn’t know if it’ll be fast enough but it’s a plan worth trying anyway. So he follows Shane, the two of them soon forgetting the jog and running back towards the road, both panting in exertion but not willing to stop anytime soon. It’s getting darker, it’s getting more dangerous to be out here but they’ve got to at least try, they can’t lose the group and the farm, not when he was just beginning to get used to the idea of staying.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s dark when they reach the highway, both of them out of breath but refusing to give in to the pain and desire to just collapse for a bit. Shane knows he’s on edge, even more so than from this morning, but he’d not going to give up or lose himself to panic. He takes control of the situation, calling for Daryl to start searching the cars on one side of the highway whilst he takes the other.

Neither of them dare put down their weapons and though he wants to move fast Shane makes sure to check everywhere properly, checking each car’s gas gauge and swearing when all of them were near empty. He doesn’t need this right now, not when he’s already having the shittiest day in history, probably only tied with the day of the outbreak. Still he grabs a bottle of water he finds, draining half of it before slipping it in his belt, continuing his search and trying not to think about this taking too long.

A sharp whistle catches his attention and he looks up, standing on the hood of a car to see Daryl down the road waving for him, beckoning him over. He sprints, not wanting to waste another second than he has to and panting when he reaches Daryl. “This one’s got quarter of a tank left, found one over there with a bit more than that but the thing’s wedged.”

Handing over the bottle of water Shane nods, wiping at the sweat from his brow and thinking it through whilst Daryl gulps down the water eagerly. Least they had what they needed and by the looks of it they could get this car free easier than the other. Sure it would be better to have the fuller car, but he wasn’t going to be pushing cars about if he could help it or wasting time siphoning gas.

Immediately he slips into the driver’s seat, not willing to even debate who was driving right now. Daryl slips into the front seat to begin hotwiring the damned thing and Shane doesn’t even care to ask how he knows how to do that. He tries his best to stay calm but it’s all too much at the moment and he can’t help but snap at Daryl after a few minutes. “Fucking come on man, call yourself a thief? I’d have had time to cuff you, read you your rights and get you back to the station before you got this piece of shit started.”

Daryl looks up at him from where he’s huddled, glaring a little but clearly aware that he’s stressed and angry and wanting to get fucking moving as soon as possible. Still doesn’t stop him from biting back a little. “Fuck you man, despite what you think it’s been a while since I’ve done this, I’m a little off my game.”

Shane swears at that, checking his shotgun is loaded and ready whilst Daryl gets back to work. He knows it’s not like in the movies where people will be gone in sixty seconds, not unless they were pros and though he had experience he doubted that Daryl was a pro at this. Running his hands over his short hair he gives a sigh, just wanting this to work and for everyone to be okay.

When the car turns over and Daryl tells him to rev the engine a few times Shane is on it, barely waiting for Daryl to sit properly before getting the car moving. He’s still panicked and beside him he knows Daryl is too, chewing on his thumb and staring out the window with his crossbow close, not as frantic as he was, but still worried. They have to clip a few cars to get out of the snarl but he manages and as soon as they’re on open highway he’s gunning it, foot to the floor and urging the piece of shit car to try harder and get them there sooner.

It’s far too dark to be safe, the road is littered every so often with bodies and abandoned cars, but he doesn’t have time to care when he knows it’s not any of their group. Shane turns Maggie’s directions over in his head, even if he’s certain he knows where he’s going there’s still the fear he’s going to miss the farm altogether and get them lost. The longer the drive takes the more he can feel the worry building, making his leg shake up and down in a nervous gesture to let some of it out.

This is so fucked, he’s not sure what to think when they pull up and the gate is open, and the smell of death and smoke greets them.

“Holy fuck.”

Shane can’t speak but Daryl’s already said it all for him, and he just cannot comprehend what he’s seeing. There are walkers everywhere, the herd clamouring at the farmhouse, the barn is on fire, the cars are gone and there’s just absolute destruction everywhere. Bodies litter the ground and the amount of walkers around means there’s no way they can safely check them over to see if they were anyone they knew. They sit in the car, a few walkers stumbling their way from over the fields at the noise of the engine but the majority are instead drawn to the barn.

The flames are huge, licking at the old building and making the place stink of smoke and death. It’s hopeless, there’s nothing left, there’s no sign of any life other than the fire burning hard, destroying any hope along with it. It gets worse when he notices the RV on its side and slowly beginning to burn as the walkers clamour at it’s side. He doesn’t know what he feels right now, but the best way to describe it would be hollow.

All he can pray is that the others got out before this all happened, maybe the lack of cars was a good sign and they’d managed to see it coming and fled. Fuck. Rick, Lori, Carl and his baby were hopefully out there somewhere, hopefully safe, hopefully with everyone else and on their way somewhere safe. There’s no sign of the chopper, maybe they got in, maybe they’re headed to an army safe zone and telling the helicopter they had to go back to find them. There would be food there, more weapons and medical facilities for them all and fuck he just hoped he was right.

“We gotta go Shane.” Daryl’s quiet, and despite it all Shane is surprised that the man has enough tact to not push, but just state the obvious.

Yeah they do have to go, the walkers are getting closer, there’s no way they can get to the house and grab supplies and there’s no way they could stay here and hope the others came back for them or sent help their way. They had to move, before the walkers caught up to them and killed them both and then there really was no hope at all. Fuck.

So he drives, he focuses on the road and grips the steering wheel tight enough to fucking hurt, digging in his nails and breathing hard until he just can’t do it anymore. Slamming on the brakes he sees Daryl brace himself against the dash in his peripheral vision, not stopping him when Shane gets out of the idle car, slamming the door shut behind himself. The other man doesn’t judge when he screams to the night sky, swearing and shouting, calling out God for doing this and in the end just screaming to the stars.

When he’s hoarse, all adrenaline from the fear and the escape leaving him to fall to his knees in the dirt and let the tears come. He’s so angry, angry at himself, angry at Daryl, angry at God, angry at the entire fucking world for doing this to him. He’d done everything to keep them all together, given up any morals he had to keep Carl alive and safe and now here he was fucking lost, separated from the group of people he loved the most and unaware if they were even alive. This was bullshit and right now he didn’t know what to do or where to start.

There were no easy answers anymore, there was no way to fix this and fuck if that didn’t make him feel even worse. He takes a few moments to gather himself, to learn how to breathe again, to straighten out his thoughts and get over the urge to beat the shit out of Daryl just to let this all out. When he gets back in the car Daryl doesn’t mention his little outburst, the man stays quiet, chewing on his thumb and just pulling a leg up to prop himself against the dash.

Shane is grateful for that and starts driving again, heading back towards the highway and trying to clear his head and come up with a game plan. “We go back to the highway, we get what we can, fill up the car and wait. If they were going to head anywhere it would be there, it’s far enough out the way and it’s somewhere we’re used to going. We keep checking there for Sophia, Rick would have the sense to check there for us too.”

Daryl nods, seemingly willing to follow his lead on all of this for the time being. It pisses him off that the other man is quiet but then it would probably piss him off if he spoke as well so Shane figures it’s probably the safer option right now. He just feels the need to do something and right now driving isn’t cutting it and his current method of stress relief was to beat on Daryl, or beat him off depending. That wasn’t going to work either.

The highway is the same as they left it except with a lone walker growling at them as they pull up. Shane takes care of it, viciously, maliciously and yet again Daryl says nothing, instead the other man heads back to the water truck Shane had found before and begins lugging some of the bottles out and back to their car. Honestly he’s grateful for the work to focus on right now so Shane occupies himself with grabbing what he can from the other cars and managing to hunt down a hose and jerry can for siphoning more fuel tomorrow.

It wastes the time for them, both of them keeping checking over their shoulders, skirting around vehicles and grabbing what they can in the dim light. Honestly it’s dark as hell and Shane’s sure he’s missing stuff and probably should wait until morning, but he just needs something to do. So he searches and their shitty car fills up, Daryl grabbing what he could see in the night, and before long there’s nothing more they can do with the lack of sunlight. He’s set up for watch on the top of their car, sitting on the crappy roof with his shotgun and he knows he’s not going to sleep any time soon.

When Daryl sidles up to the side of the car, dumping the last few items that could be useful in the trunk Shane really looks at him for the first time. The man looks exhausted and just drained. It’s as if all the energy and determination that Shane had seen when he’d been searching for Sophia had been snuffed out and now Daryl had that same look on his face he’d had when they’d told him about Merle. Daryl may not be screaming to the stars and crying, but he can see that the other man is still shaken up by all this.

“Get some sleep.” Shane finally tells him, voice sounding as empty as he feels. “I’ll keep watch and wake you when they get here.” There’s no room for argument and Daryl doesn’t try to, instead he just climbs in the car and settles on the backseat quietly, still holding his crossbow close to his chest. Shane stays in place, on the lookout for walkers but more importantly for the others to get here and stop him from worrying so much.

It couldn’t go like this. Not after everything that they’d been through. They deserved better than this and he still had so much he needed to tell Lori. He knows he’d been harsh that morning, when he’d snapped at her and cursed out Rick, saying how he didn’t believe his best friend could protect his unborn child. All he’d been thinking of was her and she couldn’t see that, it was as if she were in denial and trying to refuse him any part in his baby’s life.

It wasn’t fair and when she got here he’d apologise, he’d beg with her if he needed to and plead to be allowed to stay and protect her. He’d debated killing Rick, getting him out of the picture again and having her need him again like she had before, dependant on him for everything. Lori used him up and threw him away when she was done, casting him aside now she’d got her fill and her husband had returned from the dead.

Then she acted as if it was his fault, as if he’d left Rick there on purpose to get in her panties. Sometimes he wonders if she remembers that she was the one who started this whole thing. At no point had it been on his mind, not with the amount of worry for Rick and the slow acceptance that each day that passed made it more unlikely for him to wake up. She’d been the one to kiss him, her grief hitting her in a different way and when everything went to shit he just did what was right and protected her and Carl.

Now here he was, on a fucking roof of a shitty car waiting for her to show up with his unborn child and her husband and their son, with his latest stress relief sleeping in the car beneath him. It was pathetic, it was fucking stressful but he didn’t know what else to do. What other option did he have right now? There was nothing left, so he waited, moving to take down the occasional walker and protecting himself and Daryl whilst they wait for everyone else to show up. Every time he hears a noise he hopes for it to be a car, to be them, to be someone at least that can tell him what had happened to Lori.

There’s a part of him that is terrified they’ve been left. Lori had been spiteful, before Carol got hurt, at the church she’d told him to leave, wanted him to get out of her life even though he’d saved hers countless times. Even though he’d helped Carl, and fuck he’d do the same thing again a thousand times if he had to for that kid, he’d stayed for them both. But maybe this was the opportunity that Lori had been waiting for and if he wasn’t going to leave of his own accord, then maybe she’d taken the choice to leave him behind.

It made sense, she’d wanted him gone, especially after their little fight earlier in the day. He hadn’t meant to snap, but she was just so unwilling to listen to him, every time he tried to justify himself being a part of his baby’s life, Lori shut him down. She had been so angry with him, as if he’d planned all of this somehow. It made him even angrier, snapping at her immediately and daring her to try and kick him out, with the threat of him revealing their affair to Rick.

So maybe she’d used the chance to leave him behind. Lori could have goaded Rick to move on, played on her condition and used Carl as a pawn to get him to leave them behind. Honestly she’d wanted him gone as soon as Rick had turned back up, get rid of all her problems as soon as she could and pretend that everything was perfect with her marriage. For some reason Lori thought the end of the world had fixed her marriage even if Shane knew otherwise.

Rick would have protested obviously, the man never wanted to leave anyone behind if he could help it, and maybe he’d tried to fight off the walkers and protect the farm with the Greene’s. He would have stood with them, and that Hershel was a stubborn old bastard, Shane knows he wouldn’t have left the farm without a fight. But he knew the walkers would have kept on coming and without himself and Daryl there the group were down two of their best shots.

Shane doesn’t want to think it, but he knows it’s likely they lost some people today, but it wasn’t safe enough to go back to the farm and check any bodies. He just hopes it hadn’t been Lori or Carl. They would have left when they could though, gotten the cars and made a break for it as soon as they could and he knows that if they were going to meet up it would be here at the highway where they’d lost Sophia.

Unless they didn’t want to meet up with them.

There’s that fear again, the one he’d been trying not to acknowledge and the one that made him not want to sleep in case he missed them turning up. Out of the group he knew he was the one that went against Rick the most, simply because sometimes Rick’s need to save everyone wasn’t the best thing for the group. Yes Shane knows sometimes he gets pissed too quickly, and he gets frustrated when he knows he’s right and no one wants to listen to him. Everyone was acting as if the world hadn’t changed, but it had and they couldn’t stick to the same morals they’d had before. It was survival and sometimes you had to do things you didn’t want to for the good of the group. He hadn’t wanted to kill Otis, he’d just wanted to save Carl and in that moment of adrenaline and fear he’d done what he’d had to.

When it came down to it the group would run smoother without him there throwing a spanner in the works and trying to talk Rick out of his plans, but they would be in more danger and he honestly didn’t think Rick had the spine to keep them safe. Rick was too nice and the man hadn’t been there at the beginning of the outbreak, he hadn’t seen the world go to shit, he’d just woken up into it. Shane had had to evolve, he’d had to struggle through and learn what did and didn’t work in this new world and Rick just didn’t have it in himself to give up what had been before.

If the group would be less volatile without him there then it would be damned near perfectly peaceful without Daryl too. The redneck was a pain in everyone’s ass, headstrong and full of piss and vinegar, constantly raising his voice and looking for a fight. The group would have an easier time communicating without them, they’d probably be fucking singing round the campfire whilst walker’s chewed on their feet without the two of them there. Because as much as the other man grated on the rest of them, Daryl was a good hunter and didn’t seem to have any issues with killing walkers.

Sure Daryl was a pain in all their asses, abrupt and socially fucking dense, with the manners of a pig and bad attitude that would have made Shane lock him up for the night for antisocial behaviour. Personally if he and his brother hadn’t been good at bringing in the food and shooting Shane would have turned them away immediately, but they’d provided for the group and you had to take the shit with the good. He’s sure the group didn’t mind the Dixon being lost, they hadn’t minded him having a separate camp and this was as separate as they could get.

Between Daryl’s lack of want to be in the group and his own abrasive way of leadership, he’s sure the group had probably enjoyed when they’d spent the days off in the woods. So now with the two of them missing, maybe they weren’t bothering to look. In a way he understood, he’d sacrificed Otis for the lives of himself and Carl, so maybe they were just doing the same now, and saving the majority at the expense of the minority.

He knew that he and Daryl were expendable to the others, they had no familial ties aside from his baby which Lori was claiming was Rick’s instead, and with them gone life was probably going to be easier. Sure they’d lost a hunter and a good shot, but there were other ways of getting food and Rick could teach anyone to shoot. They weren’t needed and honestly he didn’t even think they were wanted either.  

When the sun begins to rise and there’s still no sign of anyone, he begins to lose hope.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl wakes up to the sound of birdsong in the trees and the sunlight streaming in through the window of the car. It’s disorientating and he remains where he is for a while, just adjusting to the light and the feeling of having slept in a cramped position making him need to stretch every part of his body. The car smells stale, full of the crap they’d scavenged in the back and Daryl really wishes they could have gotten a better car, maybe a truck or something. But they’d been desperate and Shane had been playing his alpha make card so he’d done as he was told.

Yawning he rolls onto his back, staring at the shitty roof of the car and wondering if there was any point in moving. Shane had said to get him up so he could go on watch but here he was and now it was dawn, and if he glanced out the window he could see Shane’s legs dangling over the edge of the car. So the other man was still there then, well that was something at least. Daryl wouldn’t have put it past him to just go, there were no ties between them and Shane had made it perfectly clear what he thought of him anyway.

The rest of the group hadn’t shown up then. As far as Daryl was concerned there were three things that could have happened to them all. One; the chopper found them and took them all to a safe zone. Two; the herd went in and killed them all. Or three; they abandoned the farm and hadn’t come here like they’d thought. Of all of them option three was the best bet, the cars had been taken, the farm was a wreck and they would have made the chopper wait for them if they could. So they were out there somewhere as a group and he was here with Shane.

He’s not sure what they were going to do now. That was the worrying part. Daryl wonders if he should head out on his own, leave Shane sitting here waiting like a loyal mutt whilst he heads back to Atlanta, he could try to find Merle again or if he was on his own he could probably scavenge and survive off the edge of the city. Yeah right, the city was for shit heads, he’d take his chances in the wild and probably manage to survive. Shane probably wouldn’t care if he left, the other man hated his guts and found him to be an annoying redneck so really what did it matter if he went?

Sighing to himself he feels the tight knot of anxiety rise within himself at the thought of being alone again. He’d tried for years to get used to the feeling but no matter how difficult he found it to talk to people there was a security he found when with others. It was why he’d stuck by Merle for so long even though his brother was a complete asshole; because he was still people and it was better than being alone. He could make it though, if he wanted to or if Shane kicked him to the curb, but really he knows it would be easier to stick together through this all.

The world was too dangerous to navigate alone nowadays and having two sets of eyes was a safer bet than just one. Shane’s feet tap on the window and Daryl sighs before shifting, opening the door and running his fingers through his hair as he stands before Shane. The guy looks exhausted but determined, still gripping his shotgun and peering around the landscape as if the group are just waiting around the corner for them. Running his tongue over his dry lips Daryl leans against the car, shouldering his cross bow and wondering how to broach the question of what to do next.

“Any trouble?” He asks instead, deciding to focus on something that was easier to talk about. Shane sighs loudly, running his hands across his face and looking completely shattered both physically and emotionally. Daryl takes that as a no and nods in reply, glancing around at the cars surrounding them. “Now we’ve got some daylight I’ll siphon us some fuel.”

Shane glares at him, still holding that shotgun and Daryl wonders if the tiredness might make the man more likely to snap. “Why? We ain’t going nowhere.” Immediately Daryl nods, not wanting to set Shane off, no ready to deal with the fallout if he did snap right now.

“Just thought we could always use more, never know when we’ll find some again.” He shrugs, moving to the trunk of their car and snatching up the jerry can and hose, watching as Shane grunts in approval begrudgingly.

“Why ain’t I surprised you know how to do that?” the other man scoffs, slipping off the top of the car and following Daryl as he heads to the car he’d checked yesterday. “Siphoning gas, hotwiring cars, bet you got a rap sheet a mile long.” He didn’t know why Shane acted like such a good boy cop, he knew the man had a darker side and heck if the man hadn’t been on the side of the law he’d have had his own rap sheet.

Focussing on the job at hand he slides the hose into the gas tank, prepping the jerry can at his feet and ignoring Shane when he sucks at the piping to get the flow going. It’s fucking gross as always and despite his knowledge that it was not the safest way to do the job, what choice did they have nowadays? It makes him gag and he has to take a moment to shudder at the fumes and catch his breath before turning to answer Shane as the gas trickles out. “Me officer? How could you think that?” Smirking a little he leans against the car, glad to have something to focus on that wasn’t so worrying. “I’m an angel me, not got a black mark on my record cause I ain’t even got a record.”

Shane actually looks fucking stunned, as if he’d been expecting him to really have experience of doing time or something. People always thought that, they looked at Merle and saw him as just another version of him. The other man leans on the car beside him, actually looking a little relaxed for the first time since the woods. “You kidding me? Backwoods little redneck like you knows all these extra curricular skills and yet you ain’t got a record?”

“Nope.” He shouldn’t feel so cocky about it all, but sometimes it was nice to prove someone wrong. “Only time I ever had to go to the station was to drag Merle’s sorry ass out of lock up. Never been on the other side of the bars. My brother was the one with a record, taught me everything I know. I was just smart enough not to get caught like his dumbass.”

When the gas runs dry they move to the next car, Daryl choking on the fumes and spitting the foul taste to the side with Shane following him. It’s something to focus on and keep his mind occupied off of the worry of being abandoned yet again, just when he had been starting to feel like a part of a group. The cars are all pretty much half empty or less, but they manage to get a good few litres of fuel out of them, enough to last them a while if they needed it.

It’s not a subject he wants to broach because he knows how things go between them when they fight, and right now its not something he wants to dwell on because yesterday had been something new and not something he could deal with right now. But he needs to know what the hell their plan was, it always helped to have a plan. “How long we going to wait Shane?”

And like that whatever ease he’d helped bring to the man was gone and Shane was tense, shoulders squared and bracing himself against the car they were near. “As long as it takes.” His voice is low, and Daryl can understand that he’s not meant to question it, cops liked to think that calm voice of authority worked but it was all bullshit and if Shane wasn’t going to make an effort to think clearly then he would.

“Look I know you don’t wanna hear it man-“

“Then don’t fucking say it.” Shane snaps and suddenly he’s there, in Daryl’s face, pressing him back against the car with fists in his shirt and gritting his teeth in anger. “Keep your mouth shut unless you got something useful to say, or more gas to get. Don’t need it right now.”

“Shane-“

The other man tugs him forward before shoving him back, and Daryl doesn’t know if he’s trying to shake some sense into him or just stop the words from coming out. “Seriously you fucking dumb or something?” Shane snarls, pressing closer, pinning him to the car and making the crossbow dig into his shoulders uncomfortably. The position is familiar, it’s one Shane sometimes used to start their fights and really Daryl shouldn’t be surprised when Shane kisses him hard.

It’s all anger. Daryl knows that and he knows he shouldn’t revel in Shane’s pain and misery over everything, but he’s just as lost too and yet this, this was something familiar and something to hang on to for the moment. So he presses back, snarls his fingers into Shane’s shirt and kisses harder, relishing the pain and the fight between them both. They’re both hurting and both lost for the next step, and if this worked to get them both calmer and more level headed then Daryl could take that. Their teeth clash together, Shane bites at his lip and Daryl presses his tongue for more, moaning into the whole thing and feel more grounded with Shane’s weight pressed against his.

Shane pulls back, and he’s pissed. Pissed at Daryl, pissed at their situation and pissed that yet again they’ve ended up like this. It seemed to be becoming a habit neither of them could quit even now at a time like this. They rest their foreheads together, catching their breath and panting, Shane is still gripping Daryl tight enough to hurt but at least he knows he’s still there.

“Unless you’re gonna use that mouth to do something worthwhile then keep it shut or I’ll shut it for you.” Shane murmurs, his eyes closed but the tension still thick between them. “Hell man you really know how to piss me off you know that? I swear it’s like before in the woods, you fucking riling me up, you so desperate for it you can’t even admit it huh?” And there’s the spiteful words again, aimed to hurt and ridicule him, to dig into his guilt over this whole thing and make Shane feel like he was in control.

Daryl ignores it as best he can, not willing to deny or confirm Shane’s anger fuelled accusations and instead focuses on what he’d been trying to suggest from the start. “I think we should go back to the farm.” He mutters, opening his eyes to watch as Shane blinked at him stupidly.

“What?”

“I think we should go back to the farm.” He repeats, letting his gaze wander to rest somewhere around Shane’s neck, watching as he breathed heavy in the warm air and that necklace caught the light. “They ain’t here, we should go back and check the farm. The herd should have moved on by now, maybe I can track them, or there could be supplies we could use or something.” Honestly he knows a lot of it is that he just can’t sit here and wait for something to happen, he always felt better when he was doing something and a part of him hopes it’ll help Shane too.

It’s stupid really, he’s so used to caring only for himself and Merle when he was around that he shouldn’t give a rats ass about Shane, but right now there’s the never ending fear of being left alone again and he knows he’d do anything to avoid that right now. Shane stays against him, thinking things through before giving a tight nod, clearly not wanting to let go of the desperate hope that the others would show up, but knowing the chances were getting slimmer.

“We could leave a note, like we did for Sophia.” It hurts to say her name now because he knows, he just knows she can’t still be alive. Not with the herd and the farm being abandoned. He’d failed to find her and now there was no hope at all. “So if they come back they know where to find us.” Because even if he knows in his gut that they aren’t coming for them, Shane seems to need this right now, so he does what he can to help.

Shane nods against him again and when his hand moves to cup the back of Daryl’s neck he can’t help but flinch instinctively, worried that he’d maybe pushed the other man too far. But there’s no hit or yelling, Shane just presses against him before pulling away, heading back to their car with determination in his step but a slump in his shoulders.

Usually he’d snap at the other man to at least fucking answer him or help out, but it’s like saying anything right now would just be too much effort. So he digs his heels in, goes to the car with Sophia’s note and wipes off as much as he can before grabbing a marker and leaving another, and he doesn’t care if they laugh that he wrote ‘please’.

So long as they see it he’d take the ridicule.

Snatching up the food they’d left behind his stomach growls in annoyance at being ignored for so long, but with everything that had happened there had been more important things to worry about. Besides it’s not like he wasn’t used to ignoring hunger pangs. Slipping his bow off his shoulder he gets back in the car, not protesting at Shane driving again, it wasn’t like the other man was likely to fall asleep at the wheel since they were both so on edge. Even if he did it wasn’t like they’d hit anyone on the road.

The drive is the same as before, full of silence and empty roads, walkers in the fields around them but sparsely so. They share the pack of beef jerky between them and the bottle of water, the pair of them eating because it was needed not for the comfort of it. The whole unease of the days was grating on him, making him chew on his thumb in nervous habit and hunting the car for the half a carton of cigarettes he’d discovered on their hunt. Fishing one from the crumpled packet he pats his pockets for a lighter only to be amused when Shane snatches the stick from his mouth.

“You say those things are going to kill me and I’m gonna have to hit you.” He huffs, going to fish out another if Shane was going to be a pain in his ass. Again it’s snatched from his lips and Shane is reaching over to grab the packet from him, shoving it in the driver’s side door for safe keeping.

“You’ve just been huffing on gas genius. You really want to put something alight anywhere near your face?” Shane shakes his head, and Daryl swears the man is a mix between exasperated and amused at his antics. Still the man brought up a good point. Shrugging he goes back to chewing on his thumb as they drive, listening to Shane tut and mumble about bad habits.

He doesn’t care, he didn’t have to prove himself to this man, all he had to do was survive at the moment and that’s what he was doing. Shane’s current position in his life was just something he had to factor in to that equation and make sure he survived too. Sitting back for the drive he watches out the window, wondering just how in the hell the end of the world had ended up with the two of them using each other for mutual benefits.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying himself, it was just difficult to admit it, especially after living with Merle and his hatred for so long. Honestly he’d never really thought much about sex or relationships. Sure he’d fucked a few girls from time to time, but the thought of having someone there as a constant just didn’t feel right to him, relationships meant fighting and screaming whereas a fuck was over and done with before an argument could begin. He supposed they weren’t in a relationship, there was no way he’d classify it as such a thing, but that didn’t stop the fact that Shane was the first person he’d had multiple experiences with.

It didn’t matter anyway, it was nothing, just stress relief and something to do in this stupid new world. There was the knowledge that neither one of them would tell on the other, that it was just something they did and nothing needed to come of it. Even if Daryl was starting to appreciate the kisses the more times that they happened. He felt pathetic for that.

The farm is quiet when they pull in, the barn nothing more than a smouldering pile of rubble and ash with the charred remains of a hollowed out RV beside it. The house itself looks in relatively good condition except for the few walkers lingering near it. There are a few pockets of them scattered around, some gnawing at the last of the cows, a few were in the stables and others were milling about aimlessly until they heard the sound of the car engine. Shane pulls up close to the house, taking his shotgun and knife out, ready to take down what was left.

Killing walkers is easy, it lets some of the tension out of his shoulders and Daryl is in his element taking them all down one by one, clearing the farm and getting to let out some of the anger on them all. They fall one by one and he checks over the fresher ones, not finding any faces he knew or cared about. It was a relief to know they weren’t dead, but they still had no clue where to begin looking.

Shane is over by the porch of the house, taking his aggression out on the walkers there and beating the crap out of them before delivering the fatal blow. Daryl leaves him to it and heads over to the RV, taking down the walkers that are interested in him and snatching the arrows from their skulls. If there was going to be anywhere to start it would be at the RV, the centre of their little convoy.

The smell of ash and burning timber reminds him of an earlier memory but he refuses to dwell on it, instead focussing on the task at hand and searching for any trace of the group. He wasn’t exactly hopeful, the fire had destroyed everything surrounding it, but he can see some footprints in the dirt, scattered about but heading towards the house. That could just be from the daily activities of the farm though and really it wasn’t enough to go on. The lack of vehicles was all he had to go on and that wasn’t much considering there were multiple ways off the farm.

A snarling from around the side of the smouldering barn catches his attention and it’s with a weary sigh that he reloads the crossbow, setting it in place and awaiting the walker to come around the edge and get a bolt in the eye. The walker stumbles forward, growling and reaching out its arms towards him, fingers grabbing for him as it gnashed its teeth. Daryl tightens his grip on the bow but can’t pull the trigger when he notices the faded print on the girl’s shirt, the tint of strawberry blonde to her hair and just how small she looks.

He knew Sophia hadn’t made it, but he wasn’t prepared for this.


	6. Chapter 6

The farm is a fucking wreck, there’s no sign of any of the others and killing walkers really just isn’t enough to let him get all of this pent up anger and frustration out of himself. Shane tries anyway, beating walkers into nothing more than bloody carcasses on the ground, kicking and hitting at them until their skull caves in and he was left breathing heavily and hating them all the more. This was not what he wanted, this wasn’t what he’d planned and he hated every single bit of it.

He hated that he didn’t have any idea of what to do next when he’d had a clear plan sorted out from the beginning. After the Atlanta plan had fallen through he’d made another one at the quarry and things had been going well for a while until he’d needed a new one. Letting Rick field the ideas had led to the CDC and that disaster, and when he’d finally managed to convince them to head to Fort Benning, they got sidetracked again.

Now here they were, just he and Daryl Dixon alone in the world with no clue what to do next. Shane knew what the missing vehicles meant for them, the group had left for somewhere safer and the only tiny bit of comfort he takes from all of this is that he hadn’t found any of their bodies yet. That was a good thing, it meant they were still out there and alive for the time being. He was still here though, on a ruined farm with nothing but an unwashed redneck and some rotting walkers for company.

Unsheathing his knife he puts the last of them out of its misery, gritting his teeth as a snarl dies in its throat and he’s left with nothing more to do. Pacing a little he debates going inside the house to find supplies but it seems too wrong to do so, every time he’d been in there it had been so full of life and he didn’t want to see it empty of the group and their future. There’s nothing for them here and there was no point staying when another herd could sweep through and wipe them out so easily now the fences were down around the perimeter.

Stalking away from the corpses he heads down to the barn to find Daryl, to ask the son of a bitch what his plan was now, to track down a car like a fucking sniffer dog and find everyone? This had been a waste of time, they should have just waited at the highway, Rick and the others were probably there right now sitting beside their message and cursing them for being so dumb. He should never have listened to that fucking idiot, he blamed it on the sleep deprivation and stress.

Daryl was stood behind the barn’s remains with his bow raised, fucking looking as if it was just another day of hunting. Shane scowls as he approaches him, hating that the other man was taking this all so easy when he felt like he was being torn apart. “Hey dumbass, what’s your big plan huh? They ain’t here, there ain’t shit here and now we’re wasting time…”

Shane trails off when he sees exactly why Daryl is standing so still, his bow raised and ready to fire but there’s no sign of the other man pulling the trigger. Swallowing back his frustration he pauses next to Daryl, unsure exactly what to do to help the other man when he was so clearly shaken up.

Sophia is dead. By the looks of things she’d been dead for a long while, before the herd, before the chopper, heck maybe even before Carl got shot. Her hands were tiny, reaching out into the air before them, her stumbling steps bringing her nearer to them both with a growl. Shane knew she had been a mere slip of a girl, but right now she looked smaller than before, tiny against the backdrop of the charred barn and so vulnerable it made his chest hurt.

It’s when he goes to tell Daryl to put her out of her misery that he realises the hunter is shaking. His grip is strong on his bow, but his entire body is trembling, his breathing is heavy and stuttered and Shane can tell that all Daryl can see right now is Sophia. He probably hadn’t even noticed Shane was here.

He’s seen this sort of thing before. When some of the younger recruits he’d been training were forced to draw their weapon for the first time against another human being and had to come to terms with the fact that they were the decider of life and death. But this wasn’t a job anymore, it wasn’t a criminal drawing ever nearer to them and waving a gun at them threateningly. It was just a lost little girl coming back to them.

Setting his shotgun on the ground he can see that Daryl can’t do this, not when Sophia growls at them and lunges a little nearer and Daryl takes a step backwards away from her. Slowly and carefully he reaches out to Daryl’s bow, setting his palm flat on the top of it and just pressing light enough to get Daryl to ease it back down away from firing position. There’s no reaction at all from Daryl when he does as Shane wants, his eyes are fixed on Sophia and his jaw is clenched tightly. When he’s sure Daryl isn’t going to be firing the weapon at all Shane steps away from him and towards Sophia, taking out his sidearm and holding it before himself.

She deserved better than this, but there was no other option left for them. Sophia opens her mouth, her arms stretching out to him, so small that she can’t even reach when her forehead presses to the barrel of the gun. The single shot is deafening in the silence of the world and Shane feels his chest constrict when her body falls lifelessly to the ground.

He takes a moment before turning back around to Daryl, not surprised to see that he hasn’t moved at all, he was still staring at Sophia’s body and the crossbow was hanging loose from his grip. Moving back towards the man Shane reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder, unsure how to help or as to how Daryl was going to react to all of this.

The punch to the face is unexpected.

“This is all your fault!” And then Daryl is in his face, everything Shane is used to dealing with, and glaring at him with fire in his eyes and hatred in his voice. “You fucking gave up, you wasted time fucking trying to get us all to stop and move on and look at her! She’s dead, she’s dead just like you wanted her to be!”

That fucking hurts and in seconds he’s grabbing Daryl by the upper arms and shaking him, pissed off that this little shit was going to blame him for this whole thing. “I did not want this Daryl.” He hisses, heart racing at the whole situation and the punch. “In no way did I ever want this to happen to her.”

Daryl is pissed, seething as he hits Shane, nothing more than a few shoves to try and get out of his grip and smacking at his chest, but it’s enough to make Shane hold him tighter. “But it did and it’s all because of you. You didn’t look hard enough when we was out there, and you kept fucking distracting me and telling me to give up and maybe if you hadn’t she’d still be alive.” His breath is coming in short sharp pants, and though he’s not in tears, Daryl looks as if he might have a breakdown soon enough. “I would’ve found her! I would’ve found her if it weren’t for you! It’s your fault!” He snarls in Shane’s face and he notes that the shaking still hasn’t stopped.

His holds him steady, able to feel the tension throughout Daryl’s body. He’s angry and that’s fine, he knew anger was just Daryl’s way of dealing with things and right now it was better than him being silent like at the highway. “Daryl it’s no one’s fault.” Shane keeps his voice as steady as he can, trying to meet Daryl’s eyes and get him to calm down with every technique he remembers from training.

“Bullshit!” And Daryl kicks, wrenches his body from side to side to try and get free of Shane’s grip. He moves fast, ignoring the hits to his chest and wrapping his arms around Daryl in a move that was a cross between restraining him and hugging him. “It has to be someone’s fault because it ain’t hers.” Daryl carries on, still squirming to get free but he’s not yelling anymore, more like just letting everything out. “She was scared, she didn’t mean to get lost in the woods, she didn’t know how to read them like I do.” Shane holds him a bit tighter when his voice catches before he carries on. “I should’ve found her. If I hadn’t been stupid and got fucking hurt and taken some time off for myself like a selfish prick, I could’ve found her safe and brought her back to her momma.”

Shaking his head he disagrees, pressing their foreheads together like at the highway, trying to meet Daryl’s averted gaze and help him calm down. “It’s not your fault Daryl.” Because he knows it’s not, it’s no one’s fault not even Rick’s for leaving her out there. It was just how things were nowadays and placing blame wasn’t going to help anybody.

Daryl squirms again, giving a feeble hit to his chest before stilling, his shoulder are still tense, he’s still shaking but when he presses closer to Shane his voice is full of upset instead of anger. “Then who’s is it? Because I was the one looking for her. I was the one telling her mom I was gonna find her. I was the one that fucked up and now she’s…” Daryl’s voice breaks on the word, leaving him silent and shaking against Shane.

“It’s not your fault Daryl.” He repeats, and it’s not a restraint anymore, he’s just holding the other man close and letting Daryl use him for support at the moment. “It’s not your fault.” There are no tears between them, but there’s a raw ache in his chest and he’s sure Daryl is feeling the same way at knowing they’d failed. Losing anyone was hard, but she was just a little girl and didn’t deserve to have been alone and scared when she died.

They remain that way for a while, pressed together and just holding each other up, Daryl holding on to Shane’s shirt and he keeping his hands firm on Daryl’s back. The world is still around them, no noise at all and leaving them both unwilling to break it until they have to. “She deserves a grave.” Daryl mutters and like that the spell is broken and he’s pulling away from Shane to snatch up his bow and stalk off, heading for the stables to find a shovel.

Shane knows this is hard, because it was hard for him too and he’d come to terms with Sophia’s death days ago. It still hurt to see her like this and though a part of him curses that this is a waste of time and every second spent here was another second Lori was getting further away with his baby, he knows they need to do this, both for her and for them. They need this closure.

Heading back into the house he finds the laundry room and some fresh sheets, Sophia deserved them to be clean and not just ripped off of a bed. Going back to the body he sees Daryl off by the tree he’d set up camp at, digging in the shade of the branches and seeming to be lost in his work. Shane figures it’s as nice a spot as any and at least she could look down on the farm from there.

He’s as gentle as he can be with her. Closing her eyes and stroking her hair away from her face when he wraps her up, making sure she looked comfortable before lifting her into his arms. She’s so light, it’s awful and painful and he has to focus on how they’re doing this for her and they needed to be strong for Sophia right now. It burned him inside that Carol wasn’t here to say goodbye to her daughter, so they’d just have to try their best to be enough.

Daryl is still digging when he gets there, huffing in the heat of the day but not stopping and Shane doesn’t have the heart to place Sophia back on the ground to help. Instead he holds her close against his chest, letting her rest there until Daryl is ready. When the shovel is thrown to the side and Daryl climbs out of the hole to stand next to it, Shane steps down, making sure to lay her down gently and make sure she didn’t hit her head where she lay.

They stand for a moment besides the grave, neither of them speaking, neither of them sure what to say or do or how to deal with this. Shane can see how much this was affecting Daryl so when the other man reaches out for the shovel again, he takes it first, letting Daryl stand beside him as he slowly fills in the grave, careful not to throw the dirt so much as place it over her. It takes time, every shovelful of dirt makes his chest ache and when he’s finally finished Daryl stalks off with a loud huff.

Shane doesn’t argue with him or cause a scene, instead he heads to the wood pile and finds two suitable pieces, fixing them together with some twine after using his knife to carve her name into the makeshift cross. Using a stone he hammers it into place above where her head lay, and even if no one is ever around to read it, somehow it mattered that it was there. She deserved better than this, Sophia deserved so much more but this was all they could give her.

When Daryl reappears at his side Shane doesn’t question it or make a fuss, he just lets the other man set a bunch of Cherokee roses upon the disturbed earth and stands beside him in silence.

There’s nothing to say, and Shane’s pretty sure between the two of them they really couldn’t manage to come up with anything worthy of Sophia, so silence will have to do and he figures it’s more poignant anyway. They stand for a while, paying their respects to her as the sun begins to make its way across the sky. It’s a beautiful day and Shane fucking hates it.

It’s done, it’s over and Sophia is at peace, so they need to think ahead. Stepping closer to Daryl he doesn’t know if the other man is ready so he simply reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder before walking past, letting the invite hang in the silence and giving Daryl the choice to do as he needed to. On the way to retrieve his shotgun he hears footsteps behind him, and he knows Daryl is doing it deliberately as not to startle him. Shouldering his weapon he steps in sync with the other man, the two of them heading for the porch and the house for supplies.

“I can’t track a car.” Daryl mumbles and like that they’re moving on and deliberately not talking about Sophia.

He nods, there really was no way they could have any idea where the group had gone and if they had the cars then they could be long gone by now. “I know.” He sighs, the two of them heading inside to begin gathering more supplies, taking what they could and destroying whatever semblance of normality was left in the farmhouse. “We should go back to the highway.” He finally suggests, noting that Daryl searches the same rooms as he does.

Daryl shrugs, moving to crouch and grab whatever medical supplies were left, wrapping them in clean towels and bundling them up before shoving them into a bag. “There ain’t nothing there, they’d have gotten there by now if they were heading that way Shane.” And it’s with a disappointed sigh whist running his fingers through his hair that Daryl speaks. “We can’t wait forever.”

They’re lost, completely lost with no idea of what to do and fuck if that didn’t bug the hell out of him. But right now it’s like the fight had gone out of both of them, leaving them actually able to have a conversation without resorting to fists and sharp words. “Why not? It’s better than running in circles looking for them.”

“What if another herd comes by?” Daryl asks, shaking his head and gesturing to the surrounding room, leading him back downstairs and glancing around almost longingly for a place of stability. “That one was a couple of hundred, there might be bigger ones out there, we wouldn’t survive it.”

It’s the truth, he knows they were better off able to run, sometimes fighting was not the best option and with a herd hiding was a far safer and more effective option. “So what do we do then?” He’s short on ideas and though everything inside of him is calling for him to somehow run after Lori and make her understand he wants to be a part of his baby’s life, he knows that’s not an option open to him right now.

“You still want to give Fort Benning a go?” Daryl asks.

Honestly he’s not so sure anymore. When there was an entire group of them it seemed to be more of an option, but just the two of them with one vehicle and barely enough fuel to get that far? It was a risk. “I dunno man, it’s far, I dunno how long that fuel is gonna last us.” A wave of tiredness washes over him and he has to rub at his eyes to get them to refocus for a moment, moving to sit at the table to give his legs a break.

“We could find more.” Daryl shrugs and Christ Shane really hates not having a plan and just not knowing.

“Or we could not.” He points out, finding his mind going round and round and trying to find any kind of real choice for them. “It’s too risky, we should stay in this area, we know where we are, the woods have decent game and Rick would do the same thing. We’d be more likely to find them if we didn’t go far.”

Daryl shrugs, chewing on his thumb before spitting some ripped off skin to the ground. “All right.” It seems that plan was as good as any and really what choice did they have? The most they could hope for was running into the others on the road. “Anywhere specific in mind for our destination?”

Taking the map Maggie had lent them for Sophia’s search he unfolds it completely, giving them the lay of the land and the surrounding areas. His finger traces longingly over King’s county, wondering if Rick would think to go back home and if they’d manage to find them there, but it’s so far and there was such a slim chance it wasn’t worth the fuel. “I dunno man, any thoughts?” Turning the map to face Daryl he gives the man free reign, might as well get his opinion on the matter.

“Want somewhere near water.” Of course Daryl would think like a hunter, someone who only cared about being able to survive and not about finding the others. He’s not mad, just well aware of how different the two of them were. “Yellow Jacket creek might be worth looking at, there’s a few settlements nearby, not big enough to draw the attention of a herd, might even be shit worth taking.”

It’s not what they wanted, it’s far from perfect, but it’s a plan and right now he’ll cling to that with both hands if he could. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s start getting our shit together then.” He stands, folding the map back up and watching as Daryl chews on his thumbnail in that annoying habit of his. “What?” Because he knows that means he has something to say.

Daryl looks a little unsure but does speak, checking through their stolen goods for something to do and not meeting Shane’s eyes. “You sure? You ain’t had any sleep man.”

“I’ll sleep on the drive, like you said we can’t stay here.” And honestly he doesn’t want to. The house is too nice for this situation, it’s too clean and ready for a family, not two men who were lost in the world and trying to find a place. Grabbing one of their bags of supplies he heads back out to the car, tossing it all in the back and checking through everything they’d managed to grab. There’s enough food for a couple of weeks if they were careful, they had weapons, some ammo but not enough for him to be comfortable, medical supplies he hoped they wouldn’t need and an assortment of other items they might need. He supposed they were ready as they were going to be.

Leaning on the trunk of the car he takes a moment to just let it all sink in, to really think about the hopelessness of it all and take everything all into account. The group was gone, the farm was lost and they were out here alone, just him and Daryl, on the road and fuck this was going to be tough. He knew they had to stick together, there was no option there, numbers were safer even if it was just two, but Christ it just didn’t feel like enough to him.

A rumbling sound makes him glance up and he finds Daryl riding that damned bike towards him, pulling up at his side before turning it off, moving to grab the saddlebags and shove them in their car. “We ain’t taking that man.” He sighs, tiredness seeping into his bones and leaving him not even wanting to fight right now. “Can’t afford the fuel.” That and they couldn’t take anywhere near enough supplies on the thing.

Daryl nods, not looking angry but just looking put out, moving to rest a hand on the handlebars of the bike and looking at it and not Shane when he speaks. “Merle’s gonna be pissed when he finds out I left it behind.”

They don’t talk about his brother or what happened to him, it’s just safer to avoid the topic of conversation, but right now Shane knows Daryl is lingering on the small things because they were easier to handle. They’d just lost Sophia, they were both still trying to move past that and now wasn’t the time for fighting if he could help it. Placing a hand on Daryl’s shoulder he gives a sigh and tries to sound at least a little optimistic for their future. “When we find him I’ll come back with you to get it all right? Leave it inside the house, then we’ll know it’s safe.”

It’s a small thing, something stupid that shouldn’t be significant but it means a lot to Daryl, he can see it in the way the man nods to him and moves to do as he said. Heaving the bike up the porch steps and manoeuvring the thing through the doorway to leave it in the hall of the Greene’s house. It looked completely out of place, like a dark smudge on a clean sheet, lost and having somehow turned up there through all of this shit.

Sighing a little he waits for Daryl to close the door behind himself, as if that was going to protect Merle’s bike from the rest of the world and keep it safe. Getting in the car he leans back in the passenger seat, letting his head thunk back to the headrest as Daryl gets in beside him, getting the car started and pulling them away from the farm, away from the one place they knew and leaving them out on the open road together.

Neither of them look back to the cross beneath the tree and the flowers quivering in the breeze.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl drives. He drives and he drives and then just when the sun dips beneath the horizon he drives some more. Beside him Shane is sleeping, getting a few hours of much needed rest and unless something happens he won’t be waking him anytime soon. The man needed to get some shut eye, it was all very well being able to keep an eye out for danger, but tired eyes missed things and missed targets and they couldn’t afford to waste the ammo.

The roads are bare, completely stripped of any life at all and aside from the occasional walker on the side of the road there’s nothing to report. It’s boring, it’s quiet and fuck it’s lonely. It’s stupid, he’d spent the majority of his life alone and now here he was fucking whining about not having someone to talk to whilst he drove. It wasn’t even like he and Shane spoke much anyway, they didn’t have much to talk about anyway, they were too different. Shane was a cop, he was an asshole who ignored the law where possible, and they were just too different to get along.

That thought shouldn’t mean as much to him as it did.

It was fucking pathetic. Stuck at the end of the world with one other person and he’s worried that they might not get alone too great. Why did he care? No one else had ever liked him, they all thought he was just a dumbass redneck not worthy of their time and yet here he was giving a shit if Shane thought the same. Of course he did, he’d made that quite clear multiple times, saying it to his face and equating him with his brother, there was no way he should care about all this shit.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly he grits his teeth in frustration at where his mind was going, glancing over to the still sleeping Shane and hating that his thoughts were revolving around the other man so much. He needs a distraction, something to stop himself from caring so badly. Grabbing their water bottle he takes a few gulps, driving with his knees for the moment and using a handful of water to rub at his face. When he’s fairly certain he’s not going to singe off his eyebrows he moves to grab the pack of cigarettes from the driver’s side door, fishing one out before finding his lighter.

Heck at least if his face went up in flames he’d have something else to think about that wasn’t Shane. Lighting it there’s no sign of any reaction to the gas he’d been siphoning earlier so he figures he’s safe enough. Cracking and window he tries to relax, leaning back in the seat and trying to pretend everything was fine and he was just in his truck enjoying a drive.

Of course then Shane shifts in his sleep and before he can take the next drag on the smoke he’s thinking of the other man again. He didn’t know what this thing was between them, there was no name for it as far as he knew and besides he doesn’t think he’d ever speak of it out loud so there was no need for a name. It just was something and something he shouldn’t be thinking of. Since the highway they hadn’t been close, honestly when he was trying to convince Shane to head back to the farm he’d thought they were going to end up fighting again, brawling on the floor like animals before giving in to whatever this was. Then there had been Sophia and Shane hadn’t taken advantage of his anger even then.

He’d thought it would happen, when he’d been hitting at the other man, trying to let out whatever the fuck got caught in his chest at the sight of that dead little girl. With every hit he’d wondered when Shane would wrestle him to the floor, pin him down beneath himself and take his mind off of everything else in the world. That was what the did, they just fought and then got off and it was over, they didn’t have to think and it was nothing that he should be dwelling on at a time like this.

But Shane hadn’t taken advantage or moved in the way he’d thought he would, instead he’d just held him, been there, a rock, a stability for him when his emotions were fucking up and all he could think about was how he’d managed to let a little girl die. He’d never needed anyone before, never in his lifetime had he been unable to take care of himself, but in that second of pressing his head against Shane’s and gripping onto his shirt, he wished just a little bit that Shane wouldn’t leave him to cope on his own.

The statement expanded to more than just his grief over Sophia. This world was screwed, more dangerous than before and full of pain and death. He was used to a life alone, but it didn’t mean he wanted it. Puffing on the cigarette he blows out a stream of smoke again, glancing back over at Shane and hating how grateful he was to have the other man there. Even if they just fought and snapped at each other at least it was something and he wasn’t alone. The thought makes his chest tighten in panic and he has to grip the steering wheel tighter to stop himself from imagining all the gruesome possibilities of what could happen to leave him alone.

It was pathetic, he didn’t need this man, he didn’t need anyone and fuck now he was mad at himself for giving a shit. All he had to do was survive, that was all he’d had to do throughout his whole life to get through the next hurdle and here he was wondering how he could make sure Shane made it through too. Honest to god did he think the other man gave a damn about him? He knew he didn’t, Shane did what had to be done, fuck other people so long as he got what he needed.

He knew about Otis. He’d known the whole time, as soon as Shane had spoken at the funeral and said how Otis had sacrificed himself for Carl. The man couldn’t lie to save his life, but it seemed he could commit murder to do so. Otis’ gun was in Shane’s hand, and though no one else could see it Daryl noticed the blood smeared on his hands from what he’d done. Sure he didn’t know the details but it was clear enough when only one man returned and had the supplies they needed. Everyone else said he was so lucky, Daryl had never believed in luck.

You made your own luck and he knew that Shane had made his own by sacrificing Otis’ life to save Carl’s and his own.

When this whole thing had started and he’d had to first shoot a walker in the head he’d thrown up afterwards, even after years of hunting there was something different when it came to killing a human. It didn’t matter that the walker had been trying to take a bite out of him, it was still a person to him at the time and he’d been completely disgusted with himself afterwards. Shane didn’t even look sorry for what he’d done and he knew that Otis hadn’t been a walker. He looked as if he’d do the same thing a hundred times over if it got him what he needed.

Daryl wondered how long it would be until Shane sacrificed him for the greater good.

No he shouldn’t think like that. Despite their differences Shane hadn’t shown any inkling of leaving him behind so far, he’d dragged his sorry ass back and forth to the farm, saved him from the herd when Shane could have let him be a tasty distraction for them all. Instead here he was beside the sleeping man and wondering if there was any other way to ensure his continued survival.

The cigarette was dead in his fingers, nothing more than air and ash as he flicked the butt out the window and stared at the road before them. Chewing on his thumb he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about just how useful he could be to Shane and how to prove it. Sure he could hunt but they had enough food for a while and with him out of the way it would be more for Shane to have. Fuck he shouldn’t be thinking like this, Shane hadn’t left him at the farm, he’d let him drive and was sleeping next to him, surely that should be enough to show Daryl he was trusted?

Maybe he was just so unused to being trusted his mind just couldn’t accept it for what it was without needing a reason behind it. The skin on the tip of his thumb was getting sore but he continued nipping at it, used to the feeling after so many years of the bad habit. It helps ground him a little as he drives, trying not to give a shit about whether the man beside him would remain loyal or toss him aside as soon as possible. Merle’s words taunt him in the back of his mind but he tries to ignore them.

There was no reason for Shane to get rid of him, not when he needed to sleep and to have someone watch his back for walkers. He was useful right now and so long as he kept being so Shane wouldn’t want to abandon him quite so soon. Fuck he shouldn’t have to justify his existence to this man, but everyone else in his life had left him before and right now he couldn’t face the thought of that happening again in the middle of the apocalypse. He was no good at being alone, no matter how much he pretended otherwise.

Stopping the car in the middle of the road there’s no point in pulling over, it wasn’t like anyone was going to hit them anyway. He steps out to stretch his legs and take a piss, really just needing some air and to be away from Shane for a moment even if the other man wasn’t conscious and able to participate with his duelling thoughts. It was so fucking stupid that it’s when the world is full of the dead that he starts giving a shit about people, and caring about how he’s seen by them all. A stupid part of him wants Shane to give a damn about him, and to want him there instead of just being stuck with him with no choice.

It was stupid and pathetic and needy and fuck his mind needed to stop wandering past lust filled fights and thinking about there being any meaning behind them. It was just stress relief that was all, there was nothing else to it and he was stupid to think otherwise. Even if he remembered Shane kissing him in that forest yesterday without throwing a punch first and then holding him close and kissing him on the highway and letting him pull away without needing the natural conclusion to their meetings. He really was pathetic wasn’t he? Caring about kisses and whatever kind of a future he could possibly have on the road with Shane.

Now was not the time for him to start having wishes of a happy relationship and a picture perfect life, there was no option for that anymore and he needed to suck it up and get used to it. Fuck sake he was so screwed up he thought they could have a relationship. It was pathetic and he’d never been so fucking needy in his entire life and now here he was over a fucking cop of all the people. Finishing his business he zips up his fly, shifting forward to lean his head against the tree and take a few breaths to try and get his fucking head sorted.

There was no time for anything other than survival and if their survival including taking out the stress on each other’s bodies then he’d deal with it and be grateful that he was allowed that much. No more pathetic thoughts and no more whining like a pathetic bitch over someone he spent most of the time pissing off. Shane didn’t want him and he didn’t want Shane and that was the end of it.

“Daryl!”

Jerking his head up at the sound he falls over his own feet when the walker lunges at him, growling and snarling as it rounds the tree he’d been against and snapping its jaws towards him. He stumbles backwards, unable to get his feet beneath himself as he scrambles for his knife, cursing his own stupidity at letting himself get distracted over something so stupid. The walker crawls over to him, snapping its teeth, desperate to take a bite from his body, he kicks at the damned thing but it’s taller than he is and rakes its nails down his side as he finally gets his knife free.

The growling stops with a wet thud, the walker goes limp before Shane yanks it off the top of him and throws it aside, panting heavily with his knife covered in congealed blood at his side. “I had it.” Daryl growls, sheathing his own blade and going to get up when Shane grabs him anyway, yanking him to his feet and slamming him on top of the hood of the car. He’s pissed, Daryl can see that he’s fucking mad at him for not being able to take care of himself, probably cursing his luck to be left with a dumbass redneck for company.

He’s ready for the ridicule, the cursing and having to defend himself from having lost concentration for a moment. It’s clear that Shane is going to snap, his shoulders are tense, his fingers are digging into Daryl’s upper arms and fuck he feels dumb for even thinking anything other than hate for the other man. “You fucking idiot.” Here they go, Shane calling him out, telling him how much he hated him and wished he was just not such a pain in his ass. “You could have been bit or scratched.”

Shane’s fingers move to his side, wandering down over his shirt and pulling at the fabric to check for any scratches. His skin is unmarked, no sign of the walker having gotten past his clothing and causing any damage to his body, it’s relief but he’s not sure exactly why Shane cares. Surely he’d have preferred him to have gotten bit and given him an excuse to put him out of his misery? When Shane lets his fingers skate over his skin he shivers a little, watching the action and unsure exactly what the hell is going on here. “Said I had it.” He repeats himself with a grumble, willing to stay with anger when he felt lost.

“Yeah it looked it.” Shane snorts, shaking his head but not moving his fingers from pressing over his side, holding his body in place on the car hood. “You can’t let yourself get distracted like that again, what if I hadn’t woken up and seen that walker coming for you?” Daryl has no reply, instead he moves to yank back down his shirt, hating that Shane’s fingers had coasted over his back enough to feel the edge of a scar. “I’m not going to be spending every minute keeping an eye on you like a toddler to check you aren’t getting yourself into trouble.”

“I can take care of myself.” He snaps, and so what if he’s a little flushed at their position? He’s just mad that’s all it is and his body is still in shock from the attack, it’s not because Shane is leaning over him a little, keeping him pinned in place and making it hard to concentrate again.

“You sure about that?” Shane smirks and Daryl isn’t sure why the man looks so fucking glad about their situation, but it’s a little worrying. Did he honestly think he couldn’t protect himself? It had just been a slip up, a one off. “Sometimes it’s more fun to have someone take care of you instead.”

“What the hell are you-“ Shane’s hand moves to cup at his crotch and he cuts himself off in understanding. Oh.

Well he certainly hadn’t been expecting this but he wasn’t going to say no. The lack of punches had thrown him off his game, but he still groans a little when Shane rubs over him firmly and leans in to press his mouth against his neck. “Yeah I know you want it. Think I can’t see how tense you’ve been all day?” Shane’s voice is low but Daryl catches every word of it, biting on his lower lip when Shane continues rubbing at his cock through his clothing. “You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you? Desperate for me to take control and give you what you need?”

Daryl really can’t speak right now, he doesn’t trust his own voice and besides it wasn’t as if Shane didn’t already know his answer. His body was answering for him, getting hard and flushed, letting his legs spread a little wider for Shane to step a little closer against him. Still he nods, baring his neck with a sigh when Shane begins kissing his skin, scraping his teeth over his pulse point and making him shiver in want. They should be more on guard, they’d already just had one walker creep up on them, they shouldn’t do something as reckless as this right now. But it’s been a tough day and this is what the did when things got tough and with all the uncertainty of their future, this was something he knew.

He arches into the touch, curling his fingers into Shane’s shirt and tugging him closer, letting the other man bite and kiss at his neck, not caring that he was a completely pathetic pussy to give in so easily. “Yeah I know you need it. Let me take care of you huh? Saved your ass just now, stopped you from becoming walker chow and now I’m going to take care of this too. You need me to do this for you don’t you Daryl?”

It shouldn’t be so fucking perfect to listen to Shane talk to him like this, but each word makes him want more and before he can stop himself he’s nodding, dragging Shane closer by his shirt and leaning up to kiss him hard. It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s ever initiated anything during one of their meetings, Shane always took control of the situation and he just went along with it. Sure it was a small thing, just a kiss and nothing like they way Shane was yanking at his belt and freeing his cock, wrapping his fingers around his length and stroking him hard.

Gasping into the other man’s mouth Daryl bucks into him, ignoring every single little bit of sense that tried to speak up in his mind and just enjoying this for what it was. Shane’s hips grind into him, the other man’s cock hard and insistent beneath the fabric and before he can think too much Daryl lets his hands move from Shane’s chest to fumble with his belt. There’s no smoothness to his movements, between Shane’s tongue in his mouth and his fingers around his cock it’s hard to concentrate of what he’s doing, but with some fumbling around he finally manages to grasp at Shane’s cock in return.

The kisses stop for a moment and Shane is watching him, panting with their faces close together and his fingers still wrapped around Daryl’s cock, it’s too much, he can’t think right now or he’ll come to his senses. So instead Daryl shoves their mouths together again, closing his eyes and just rubbing over the other man’s cock with jerky movements and pretending not to enjoying every moan into his mouth. It wasn’t meant to be about Shane, it was meant to be about him and just getting what he needs, but every time he manages to make Shane gasp he repeats the motion, and when Shane does something that makes him whimper he copies him afterwards.

He groans and bucks into the touch, feeling Shane rock his own hips forward with a sigh into his mouth and he knows this is so fucked up. Moving his hand faster over Shane’s cock he can feel himself getting to the edge, but he doesn’t want to let this stop, if it stops he has to think again and he doesn’t want that. Biting at Shane’s bottom lip he pants, shaking his head briefly and trying to bring Shane to the same level as him. He wasn’t sure why but it was important to make sure Shane enjoyed himself, and if he came first Daryl wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue touching him if his senses weren’t drowning in lust.

Shane growls, biting him back, pressing him down against the car hood a bit more, keeping him pinned beneath him and Daryl shouldn’t enjoy the feeling of being trapped so much. He moans loudly, bucking into Shane’s grip he tries to still himself, not wanting to go too far, stroking over Shane and rubbing his thumb over his leaking head. It’s all too much and he bites at his lip, feeling Shane press their foreheads together and stroking over him faster, fisting his cock and leaning over him in a way that meant Daryl knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself. “Yeah come on Daryl, let me take care of you, come on man.”

Daryl comes with a muffled cry from behind where his teeth clench in his bottom lip, he’s sure he’s going to be bleeding there afterwards but it just feels so good he doesn’t care. He can feels himself spurting over the two of them, cock jerking in Shane’s grip and making him whine at the sensations washing over him. Keeping his eyes closed he doesn’t want to ruin this, slumped on the hood of the car and feeling the flush on the back of his neck get hit by the cool air. His fingers are still wrapped around Shane’s cock and he stutters a little in his movements, keeping his eyes closed and trying to bring the other man off.

He jerks a little when a hand wraps over his own, Shane’s larger palm covering his and linking their fingers together, moving them together over his cock and giving a loud moan at the feeling. Peering from between his eyelashes Daryl tries to pretend he’s not enjoying the sight of Shane over him, thrusting his hips into their grip and making those noises because of what he’s doing. “Yeah, just like that Daryl.”

It’s stupid but the praise makes him flush and before he can stop himself he’s kissing Shane again, letting their tongues clash together in their mouths and following Shane’s fingers over his cock. He wants to be good enough for him, he wants to make this good and make him shiver and moan like Shane did to him, he doesn’t even care that he’s covered in his own come and panting like a whore. Shane grunts a little, rocking on his feet and shoving against him more, fucking their fists properly, not really stroking anymore but just using their hands to fuck his cock in.

“Fuck that’s good man.” Shane moans, his hips moving faster, fucking their hands, moving to grab at the back of Daryl’s head with his free hand and moaning into his mouth. “Fuck Daryl, gonna come man.” He shouldn’t feel proud that he helped push the man to this edge, or that Shane says his name whilst almost out of breath and presses closer against him whilst coming over his fingers, spilling himself against Daryl. It’s wrong to enjoy this so much, it was just stress relief; that was it. He was nothing to Shane and Shane was nothing to him, but fuck if this didn’t feel so good to be a part of.

When Shane kisses him slowly afterwards, cupping his face and holding him close, Daryl wonders if he’s not the only one enjoying himself too much.


	8. Chapter 8

They find a few houses not too far from Yellow Jacket Creek. Shane doesn’t think it could be called a street, more just a collection of neighbours that had sprung up out of nowhere to make a tiny community. Even before all of this walker shit had gone down it was human nature to stick together, just in case. Now here he was with Daryl, pulling in to the nicest looking one and praying for it to be salvageable for supplies and safety.

Things between them have been quiet since the drive here and their small pit stop. Daryl seemed to have his mind on other things and even when Shane tried to start a conversation between them he could see the other man wasn’t paying attention. He was chewing on that damned thumb again and watching out the window, Shane having taken over driving for the last part of their journey.

Honestly Shane didn’t know what they were going to do. Sure they’d made it to their destination but what were they planning to do from here? Get more supplies and move on? Move on to where? Fort Benning was too far, and they had no clue which direction the group had gone to. The only thing they had to search for was the group and he wasn’t going to give up the hunt for them and try to settle down for a slice of the good life with Daryl.

So these houses were just a pit stop but a much needed one. He knew both of them were exhausted, the stress of the last few days had left them both on edge and after the initial adrenaline had worn off it had left the both of them needing some actual uninterrupted sleep. The garage is empty, easy enough for them to swing the car inside and lock it down without the worry of anyone else stealing it from beneath their noses.

Clearing the house is easy, it’s just like before when he and Rick had to clear a building of suspects. He falls into the easy place of lead, calling each room cleared afterwards and finding that Daryl falls into line quite easily behind him, not even protesting at him taking the lead. There are no walkers in the house, the place is empty but not ransacked, leaving it looking very out of place and very empty for them to be there. It’s starting to get light outside but they both need to rest properly before one of them keels over and right now Shane feels it might be him.

They wedge the couch against the front door, lock down all other routes through the house to check they had a clear run to the car and another route out one of the back windows if necessary. Shane knows ideally they would be searching for supplies right now, but as soon as he’s certain nothing is getting in or out without his permission he collapses on the nearest bed with a grunt. He keeps his guns on the nightstand beside him, ready to be grabbed and his knife is beside his head in case he needs it, no point going lax with the weapons if they didn’t know who was in the area.

A weight on the other side of the bed makes him blearily open his eyes, grunting in question when he sees the fuzzy outline of Daryl’s angel wing vest before him. It seems Daryl hadn’t wanted to secure a room of his own to sleep in but right now Shane was far too tired to rip into the other man about it. They needed to rest and perhaps it was better for them to be in the same room for backup if they needed it and besides, it wasn’t like Shane could completely trust Daryl yet, he might as well keep him close for the time being.

Sleep comes easily, it feels more like just passing out than it does going to sleep and he knows it was needed when he doesn’t dream in the slightest. By the time he wakes up the day has moved on significantly, it’s beginning to get somewhere close to late afternoon and he finally feels that he can keep his eyes open without much of an effort. Still that doesn’t mean he particularly wants to move right now, not when this is the first real bed he’s been in for the last few months. Stretching languidly he lets out a yawn, taking his time with waking and peering to the other side of the bed to check on his bunk mate.

Daryl is still dead to the world, breathing deeply with his face buried in the pillow he’s clinging to. His bow is on the floor beside the bed and his knife is similarly within an arm’s reach like Shane’s is. He’s not aware of where his gun is, but he wasn’t going to frisk him to find out. Like this Daryl looks peaceful, without any of the tension in his body or the look of mistrust on his face he’s actually rather handsome in the face. Of course Shane wasn’t dumb enough to tell him that, but it made thinking of the other man in compromising positions a little easier.

Whatever this thing was between them it was growing slowly into something else. It had started out in the woods that day, when Lori had set him off and made him need something more than just a quick angry fumble with Daryl. He’d gotten the other man to say he needed him and that he was someone worth wanting and in his mind he saw that as confirmation that Lori was a fool for kicking him to the curb. Maybe she thought she didn’t need him now she had her husband back and a baby on the way, but Daryl had obediently clung to him, gasping and begging for it, so needy and pliant in his grip. He was worth something to Daryl and that feeling had only been growing over the past few days within himself.

He found himself looking forward to their little trysts and not just for the orgasm at the end of it. It became less about getting off and more about getting to do things with Daryl in particular, getting to see the other man come completely undone because of him and give in to every dirty little thought he’d ever had before. Shane couldn’t care less that he wanted to fuck another man, but he could see in the way Daryl never spoke about it and how he had spat about ‘not being like that’, that this was something new and intimidating to Daryl.

It shouldn’t turn him on so much to think about being the only one who could do this to the other man.

Things have only gotten more intense between them and they still had yet to actually talk about it but Shane figured they didn’t really need to if Daryl didn’t want to. And it was certainly Daryl that was on edge about the topic, not him. He rather enjoyed getting to push the other man around and not needing violence to do it, but just having him so willing to nod and pant in his mouth because Shane was the one making him feel so good. They always said you caught more flies with honey anyway.

It’s strange to think he knows next to nothing about the man sleeping across from him. Sure he knew that Daryl could beg like a bitch when he wanted it, he knew he was likely to try and stay quiet when he came and that he flushed a delicious shade of red across his cheeks whenever Shane spoke dirty to him. But he didn’t really know anything else. A part of him thinks that it’s wrong to know all the dirty things and nothing else, but another part of him wonders why the hell he should care about anything else.

Daryl was just a casual fumble for him to use when he wanted. It just so happened they were stuck together with no one else around for distraction now. It didn’t matter that he’d hated seeing the other man so out of sorts about Sophia, or that he’d been glad that holding him close and letting him get all the anger out had seemed to help. It had just been the right thing to do was all, so he’d gone with it.

And maybe he’d kissed Daryl a few times, but if it felt good then it didn’t have to mean anything else and besides it always felt weird to have some fun without kissing or biting at the same time. He just liked the feeling was all and heck if Daryl enjoyed it too then that was a bonus. Shane figured the other man had to enjoy what they were doing even if he couldn’t admit it, because Daryl had touched him back before on the hood of the car.

When he’d thought the idiot had gone and gotten himself scratched and dared to leave him alone out here in this shithole of a world. Shane will admit that some of that moment had been panic for himself being abandoned, but most of it was worry for the other man. When Daryl had gone down his heart had stopped and he’d moved automatically, protecting all he had left and snarling in anger when the other man had fucking said he’d had it covered.

He remembers running his fingers over his side, slipping his hand beneath Daryl’s shirt to brush over smooth skin and feeling the mottled flesh of a scar on his back. There had been no chance to explore further and though he knew quick fumbles between them wasn’t exactly an invite to get to see all of Daryl, he was intrigued by the rest of his body and wanted to venture further if only to satisfy his own curiosity.

Besides, he knew Daryl wanted it really, even if he couldn’t say it. The other man was so fucking stubborn sometimes, it reminded him of Rick in a way, so determined that he knew best that he wouldn’t even concede to listen to the other options. Thinking of his friend makes him think of Lori and the baby and Shane has to stop himself before he gets himself angry and on edge again. He needed a distraction, but his distraction was asleep and by the looks of it, dreaming.

Still he could explore Daryl without touching. He knows he’s got at least one scar on his back and he’d seen the one on his side from where Hershel had removed the bolt and sewn it back up. Maybe Daryl had some more he could find and run his fingers over, they could share stories of how they got them maybe, because heck they were going to need something to talk about if they weren’t going to talk about the thing between them. His hair is getting long, starting to get to the point where it almost hangs in his eyes when it’s mussed up and Shane sees the way Daryl tries to shake it out the way when he’s taking aim with his crossbow.

So like a redneck to have a fucking crossbow as a weapon of choice. Everyone else had gone for the guns, the heavy fire weaponry you’d use to defend yourself. Meanwhile the Dixon’s had strolled up with a hunting rifle and crossbow as if they were simply on a weekend trip out to catch themselves some deer. Still least Daryl knew how to use it properly and he could use a gun when he had to so heck, who was he to complain? Least they had a half decent chance out here by themselves.

He wonders when Daryl learnt to hunt and track so well, the man acted as if it was second nature to him, even Merle hadn’t been as decent a tracker as his younger brother and Shane had seen the glimmer of pride in his eyes when Merle had said so. The Dixons were rough around the edges, no manners, no tact and all a mix of asshole and dickhead in one. Sure Daryl was easier to handle than Merle, but Shane figured that might simply be due to the drug habit.

It occurs to him that maybe he’d been wrong accusing the other man of snorting coke or popping pills. Since they’d been together Daryl hadn’t done anything like that to his knowledge or shown any withdrawal from the lack of it, in fact he seemed more stable than Shane felt sometimes. Maybe Merle hadn’t influenced that side of his life quite as much as he’d pushed at the other parts.

Christ Shane can’t imagine growing up with that as a brother, heck it was a miracle Daryl was even still alive considering. Merle seemed the type to beat the shit out of you for even looking at his sideways, he can’t imagine what he’d have done to a younger brother who’d stolen something of his. Shane used to scrap with his cousins all the time, but it was all fun and games, Merle looked like the kind that wouldn’t quit until someone was bleeding.

Daryl shifts in his sleep, curling a little tighter around the pillow and Shane’s not shocked when that damned thumb finds it’s way up beside his face. It seemed the habit stuck around even when Daryl was unconscious. He shouldn’t find it so damned endearing, but Daryl’s mouth is a rather intriguing part for him, if only because he remembered exactly how hesitant Daryl’s tongue had been against his own. He wondered if he’d be as hesitant if he were on his knees, or if Daryl would try to prove himself and act as if he knew what he was doing down there.

The thought isn’t one he should be having right now, not when they should be getting up and checking the place over, eating something whilst they could and making a plan. But damn the thought is entertaining and mentally going over their supplies he finds himself thinking of the potential future of their little fumbles and finds himself rolling over to check the bedside drawer. Grinning brightly he can’t help but laugh as yet again he finds the sex drawer on his first try.

Rick had always wondered how he did it, whenever they’d had to do a drug raid or search he’d always managed to be the one to find the kinky drawer no matter whose house they were in. Sure they expected to find some things in the homes of the young and reckless, but he’d enjoyed making sure Rick had to bag and tag a purple dildo as potential evidence when he’d found a trace of white powder near it in the house of an elderly lady. Rick hadn’t been able to meet her eyes through the entire interview process.

Shaking away the memories he picks out what he intends to keep just in case, a few bottles of lubricant are all he needs, he figures Daryl most likely wasn’t the type to want to experiment. It seemed kissing a guy was pushing it enough as it was, so he likely wasn’t going to want to waste storage space on anything more entertaining. Though Shane does debate the fur lined handcuffs, just for the pure comedy it would bring.

Peering over his shoulder he finds that Daryl still hasn’t stirred despite all his moving about so he slips the bottles into a zipped pocket of his pants to keep them to himself. He didn’t need Daryl discovering them accidently and disposing of them before they got the chance to use it. Honestly he knows Daryl had been willing the other day but that had been then and he didn’t know if given the chance to think too hard about it Daryl would run a mile. Best to take it slow, baby steps at first.

Still this was the first bed he’d been in for months, surely it would be a waste not to make the most of the opportunity? Besides it wasn’t as if Daryl had ever really refused him before, and the thought of making the other man beg again was rather tempting. Plus, he knew waking up with an orgasm was one of the best feelings, so really he was doing this to make sure Daryl wasn’t going to be a grouchy bastard when he woke up.

Sliding his fingers over the other man’s crotch he watches his face carefully for any signs of him waking, enjoying taking his time to stroke over Daryl’s slowly growing erection and see the way his body unconsciously responded to him. Daryl spreads his legs a little wider with a hum of pleasure, still buried in the damn pillow he was holding, but his body twisting more towards Shane. Taking his time he makes sure not to make too bold a move as he starts to unbuckle Daryl’s belt, easing it lose along with his flies and jeans.

Daryl gives a deep sigh, and it’s a definite sign that he was enjoying this as much as Shane was. Shifting to kneel so he had more control, Shane slips a hand down the front of Daryl’s pants, stroking his length through his underwear and ducking down to begin nibbling over his neck. He’s ready for the sudden jerk beneath him as Daryl wakes up and he’s already got the other man’s hand pinned to stop him from going for the knife. “Wha?” Daryl tries to question but cuts himself off with a small moan, his still tired eyes watching Shane in confusion.

There’s something even better about getting to do this to a half asleep Daryl, he looked so open and vulnerable right now, half dressed with Shane’s fingers around his cock and still trying to blink himself awake, as if unsure if this was really happening. “You want this don’t you?” Shane asks, moving to kisses at Daryl’s neck, trailing up to his lips and finding it amusing when Daryl can’t seem to work out how to get his mouth to work properly when he’s like this.

He tastes of sleep and a staleness that shouldn’t be so wonderful, but having Daryl caught off guard, giving in so easily without a fight and bending to his will was everything he needed right now. Daryl is flushed, his cock already leaking onto Shane’s fingers in eagerness and bucking into each stroke. Words seem to be beyond him right now, but he nods, trying to kiss back clumsily and his free hand goes to catch on Shane’s belt, tugging him closer with a moan. It’s pathetic and though he doesn’t want to admit it, having Daryl still half asleep and just enjoying this without thinking too hard about it is more than just intriguing, it was hot too.

“Say it.” Because he knew he’d be kicking himself later if he didn’t take this opportunity to get Daryl to obey. Half asleep he seemed more relaxed and able to admit to what he wanted and Shane was not going to miss the opportunity. “Say it Daryl.”

“More.”

Chuckling a little Shane can feel his own cock pulse in want, hard against his pants and needing something. Taking the pinned hand of Daryl’s he moves it to cup his own crotch, giving him some pressure to grind against as he continued stroking Daryl’s cock. “You can do better than that.” He murmurs and Daryl actually fucking whines against his lips, trying to kiss him, to get him to push just that bit harder and make him come. “Say; I want you to make me come Shane.” And he knows if he’d thought this through he’d been feeling like an idiot, but as it was this was by far the most desperate he’d seen Daryl and he was loving every second of it. When he hears the words Daryl is bright red in the face, groaning into Shane’s mouth, bucking up harder and panting for air. Shane squeezes his fist a little tighter but doesn’t move it, letting Daryl grunt in annoyance as he makes him wait. “Come on.” Shane continues to coax him, enjoying the way he squirms and rubs at Shane’s crotch, as if giving him pleasure was going to get him to move his hand again. “You have to say it.”

Daryl moans again, breathing heavily in little puffs against Shane’s lips, his clumsy tongue trying to enter his mouth and get him to continue without making him have to say it. This mini battle between them is wonderful and so alike to their fighting that it’s not too different from their usual routine. Shane continues kissing him, pressing himself against Daryl harder and nibbling on his lower lip, squeezing his fingers around Daryl’s cock in a silent promise.

“Please!” Daryl blurts out, his hips bucking frantically as he tries to both drag Shane closer and get into his pants to rub his cock properly. “Shane, I want you to m-make me come Shane.” The other man whimpers, breathy against his lips, ashamed and blushing heavily before groaning with relief when Shane strokes his cock hard and fast enough to let him come over his fingers. Daryl is pressed against him, panting for air and thrusting lazily into his fist, enjoying every last moment of his orgasm and his lack of shame.

Shane doesn’t want this to all come crashing down around Daryl’s ears and he knows he can’t let the other man think too hard if he wants to get his own turn. Shoving his own belt and pants aside he wraps his hand around Daryl’s own again like before on the hood, easing his fist over his cock in gentle strokes. “Fuck man that was so hot.” He can feel Daryl tense beneath him, but he doesn’t pull away and Shane figures that’s a good sign. “So good when you beg me, when you let me hear you talk like that.”

Their hands run over his cock, swiping at the tip and stroking him easily, Daryl’s not as timid as before but Shane doesn’t know if that’s due to the post orgasm feel of the tiredness. “Want you to come.” Daryl speaks so quietly that at first Shane almost misses it, but when he looks up and Daryl avoids his gaze he knows he heard it. Groaning loudly in approval he moves their hands a bit faster over his cock, letting Daryl feel the reaction his words had on him and encouraging him to do it again. “Want you to come Shane.”

Moaning loudly he presses their foreheads together, panting over Daryl’s lips, driving his hips up into their grip and feeling the want build inside of himself. “Fuck yeah Daryl.” He groans, wanting him to hear his name as much as Shane had heard his own. “Gonna fucking come man, you’re gonna make me come.” The familiar feeling washes over him and he milks at his cock, feeling himself come over the pair of them and grunting through each wave of bliss that echoes through his body. He remains above Daryl for a while, just catching his breath, enjoying the feeling of being pressed to him and having a plan work so well.

When he shifts to clean himself off he feels Daryl do the same on his side of the bed, still breathing heavily and when he glances over Shane can see the trembling in his fingers when he tries to wrestle his belt closed. Daryl stands, running his now clean fingers through his hair and still not looking anywhere near Shane when he snatches up his crossbow. It seems that he’s going to be quiet again, not talking about this thing between them and leaving Shane with even less answers than when he’d started questioning this whole thing.

Daryl drags on his boots, heading for their route out of the house with his knife and bow on him, seeming determined to get out of here without even looking at Shane let alone speaking to him. Not if he had anything to do with it. “Hey, where’re you going man?” He asks, following him through the hall and down the stairs, reaching out to grab at his shoulder when Daryl won’t fucking stop.

“Hunting.” Daryl mumbles and that damned thumb is being chewed on again, showing he’s on edge, unsure and probably wanting to say more than he is at the moment. Shane doesn’t understand how a man who’s so cocky and sure of himself one minute can be completely lost when it came to some topics of conversation. “Be back in a couple of hours.”

After enough time has passed for them to pretend that nothing had happened between them. Again. Shane moves to get ahead of him, ignoring the way Daryl tries to avoid his gaze by grasping the back of his neck and forcing their eyes to meet. Daryl looks on edge, and Shane wonders if getting some rest actually helped at all or if the man is always like this. Giving a small sigh he rests their foreheads together again and he can feel when Daryl tenses and grips his cross bow a little tighter. “Listen man, you can’t keep doing this shit.” He watches the way Daryl’s eyes rest on his shoulders instead of his eyes, avoiding him as much as he can.

Shane doesn’t let him go, even when Daryl struggles a little and he can see the anger in his eyes, the way he tenses and wants to start a fight again because it was easier to understand than all of this. “What the fuck is this Shane?” Daryl finally asks, frustrated and just looking like he’s lost and hating this.

He shrugs because really what else can he do. It’s a question he’s been asking himself and he was still no closer to an answer. “I don’t know exactly, but I don’t want it to stop.” Of that much he is sure and he can see the way Daryl chews on his lip at his next question. “Do you?”

And with a muttered, “no,” and a shove Daryl is gone, leaving Shane with a smirk on his face and thinking that taking the items for their future was a good choice after all.


	9. Chapter 9

He cannot believe what an idiot he is sometimes.

Storming through the woodland he’s not even really looking for anything to hunt, Daryl’s far too busy cursing himself to care about getting them any food right now. Why the hell had he said that to Shane? What the hell had he been thinking? Honestly he blamed it on being tired, he had been half awake, blissed out after an orgasm and had no control of his mouth or mind. Shane had taken advantage of that fact and coaxed him into saying he didn’t want it to stop, it was all his fault.

Keeping his eye out for walkers he doesn’t even bother scanning for any food, instead he just enjoys the cover of the trees from the slowly fading daylight and tries to get the thoughts out of his mind. He hates this. He hates that no matter what happens he seems unable to get Shane out of his mind, even though he knows they’re nothing to each other. Before it had been so much easier when they would just go back to the group and he’d have other things to distract him, now here he was stuck with the man and finding his thoughts becoming more and more focussed on the ex-cop.

Shane was a dick. He was an emotional bastard who used his strength to get his own way and wouldn’t back down once he had an idea of what he wanted. Daryl hated that about him, and he hated that sometimes he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to push his ideas through unless Shane specifically asked for them. The worst part was that he knew he was becoming Shane’s bitch in more ways than one. What the hell was wrong with him?

It wasn’t like he hadn’t made out with people before, sure they were all women before now, but fucking hell he’d never acted like that with them before. Even if they’d tried to be pushy he’d pushed back just as hard, taking what he wanted whilst they took what they did and at the end of the night everyone was happy and enjoying a post orgasm cigarette. With Shane it was different and whenever he thought he had the balls to kick him away and tell him to fuck off the man would say something against his lip, or mutter in his ear and make him flush and groan and before he could make any sense of it he was begging for more like a little whore.

God Merle would fucking kick his ass from here to Atlanta if he were here to see this.

It weren’t like he was a faggot or anything, least he didn’t think he was. As far as he knew gays only liked cock, but he liked tits, he definitely liked pussy but as much as it fucking annoyed him to think about, he kind of liked Shane’s hard chest and cock too. So what he was a mix of both? Caught in the middle and not sure if he wants to fuck or be fucked?

Jesus Christ this was so wrong. They had other issues to deal with like the end of the world and surviving and here he was wondering exactly where he wanted to stick his dick. Or where he wanted Shane to stick his.

He was screwed up, worse than he’d thought he was before. Not only had he bent over so easily in the woods before the herd, but now he was even debating wanting to do it again and there was no adrenaline rush to blame it on anymore. It was dumb and not helping anybody but he supposed that maybe he actually gave half a shit about Shane. The other man was a dick that’s for sure and heck he doesn’t know if they’ve ever had a conversation that didn’t end in a fight or their own version of stress relief, but a part of him wants to carry this on. Even if it was screwed up.

Honestly he doesn’t know what part of himself had made him share the bed with the other man, at the time he’d blamed it on exhaustion and needing to have back up in case of an attack. Really he’d kind of wanted to just stay close. Plus the bed had been damned comfortable, much better than the backseat of a car and he actually felt well rested for once.

At least he could justify that part easily enough, but the rest of it was all still up in the air. Especially the part where he’d kissed Shane back on the hood of that car. Fuck he doesn’t know what had possessed him to do that. At least if Shane was controlling it all then he was just going along with it all, but then he’d kissed him, he’d touched him and stroked him, made the other man say his name as he came and fuck that shouldn’t have been so intense to hear or to remember.

Things between them were becoming more, more of what he wasn’t sure and apparently neither was Shane, but neither of them wanted it to stop. If it didn’t stop then it would keep evolving between them, it could keep growing into something more and Daryl isn’t sure if he’s terrified at the thought of that or excited for it. It’s pathetic, he’s a grown man, not some teenage girl mooning over some guy, but Shane somehow makes him feel on edge in both the good and bad way.

Running his fingers through his hair he doesn’t know how much longer he could stay out here safely. They’d managed to sleep through the day and the sunlight was fading, making it more and more dangerous to be out here by himself. Looking back to the house he’s not sure if he wants to face Shane yet, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’d say to him right now, usually he needed a few hours to cool off after one of their close moments, to forget how easily he lost himself and gave in to it all. Chewing on his thumbnail he peers through the trees towards the house they’d secured, wondering exactly how Shane never seemed to be lost in any of this thing between them.

He’s certain Shane has had plenty of trysts with people, probably both men and women judging by how eager he’d been to get with him and hadn’t hesitated at all. It’s something he’d still trying to hurdle over himself, and every time he thinks he’s okay with it for a moment his father’s voice creeps up in his memories along with Merle’s and he remembers screwing around with multiple women to prove he wasn’t a faggot to the both. It just weren’t right for men to be like that, even if he knew Merle had done some shit in prison he wasn’t proud of, that was different, there weren’t any other choices.

Really he figured he didn’t have many options open to him either right now, but he’d gone long enough without screwing someone and only having his hand for company, wasn’t like he couldn’t just carry on with that. It wasn’t like he wanted a relationship or anything, they were too complicated and full of fights and yelling, far too much for him to be bothered with, but despite knowing that he also knew he didn’t like the thought of Shane finding Lori and going back to screwing her.

If he did then there would be no need for Daryl anymore and he’d meant when he’d said he didn’t want this to stop between them.

Shane was a dickhead, he was violent, emotionally fuelled at all times, always ready to fix a problem with his fists and an ugly shit at that. The other man pissed him off to no end, making him want to punch him and walk off if he had the balls to make it alone in this world. But he was stuck with him and Shane was the same, both of them put into this position and having to make the best of it, that’s all it was. Except for an ugly fuck Shane did have a chest he liked being pinned under.

Shit this wasn’t helping anyone and the sun was sinking beneath the horizon quicker than he liked. Sighing to himself he gives up even pretending to hunt and begins patrolling the perimeter, checking for walkers and any other signs of life or other people around them. There’s nothing worth reporting and he doesn’t waste nearly enough time before he’s heading back to their base, shoving the couch back against the front door as a barrier and finding himself trailing back up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Anything?” Shane doesn’t look up from the floor when he asks and Daryl has half a mind to come back looking like a walker next time to make him actually pay attention, but then again last time hadn’t worked out so well for him.

Instead he shrugs, tossing his bow onto the bed and sitting on the edge of it, peering over the map Shane has spread over the floor. “Not a damned thing.” It doesn’t matter that he hadn’t really bothered looking at all, Shane didn’t need to know that. Honestly he’s just grateful they’re talking about anything else.

Shane nods, still not looking up from where he’s marking out points on the map and seemingly uncaring of his answer. That grates on him a little but he leans back on the bed and continues watching him anyway. “We’ll move on out tomorrow, keep looking for the others, I figure we start from here and spiral outwards, hopefully we’ll find them along the way.” Shane points to his markings on the map, following them with his finger and Daryl can only shrug in reply.

He doesn’t get the other man sometimes and he chews on his thumbnail as Shane begins to roll up the map and pack it back into their bags. “Why’re you so bothered about finding them?” He asks him. “I mean from what I could see it looked like you were getting ready to leave soon enough anyway.” Back on the farm he knew there was some tension there between Shane and everyone else, especially Lori.

“How’d you know about that?” Shane looks up to him from where he’s kneeling, not looking mad at him, which is a nice change, but genuinely questioning how he knew such a thing.

“What is it with you people thinking I’m dumb?” Honestly did these people think they were any good at keeping secrets? It was obvious Glenn and the farmer’s daughter were fucking behind the scenes too was everyone else oblivious to that as well? “I ain’t blind, was obvious you’d been thinking about it since the highway, besides didn’t hurt that Lori ain’t exactly quiet when she’s bitching at you.” He points out, smirking a little when Shane snorts out a chuckle.

“Shit man was it that obvious?” Shane runs his hands over his buzz cut, rubbing at the back of his head and looking a little sheepish.

“Yeah it was, so how come you’re so desperate to get back to a bunch of people that don’t want you around?” Because that’s the real question isn’t it? They were chasing around after a group of people that Shane had been planning to leave and that he hadn’t even been planning on joining in the first place. So what the hell were they doing it for?

Shane looks a little lost for a moment, licking at his lips as he stays knelt on the floor before him. Daryl wonders if he’s pushed this a little too far, maybe Shane’s going to start getting pissed at him again for asking shit and not following his lead like a little bitch. So when Shane actually does answer him in a quiet voice, he’s quite surprised in the first place, but the actual answer just confuses him. “Lori’s pregnant.”

Frowning a little he shrugs at that, not exactly seeing why it was such a big deal. “So?”

“So?” Shane snorts and clearly that wasn’t the right response to his big reveal. Daryl watches as the man gets to his feet, starting pace as he explains, his voice getting more tense as he continues and more angry. “So she’s pregnant with my baby, it can’t be Rick’s, there’s no way in hell it’s not mine and she’s out there somewhere and saying it ain’t.” Again Shane licks at his lips, a tell that he’s on edge and ready to burst. “Now I know I’m not a fucking saint, but I wanna be there for my baby when it’s born and heck, I don’t think Rick can protect Lori and Carl the way he thinks he can. The man can’t make the tough choices, he’s too soft. He weren’t there when all this started off man he was in a fucking coma, he didn’t see the way the world changed and he thinks he can fix everything like he always used to. World ain’t the same anymore, you gotta do shit you didn’t have to before to get by.” Shane snarls, pacing back and forth across the room like a trapped animal and glaring at him between steps.

“Like leave a man chained to a roof for the good of the group?” Daryl points out, not bothered when Shane points a particularly angry glare in his direction. “Seems to me he’s pretty good at picking the tough choices if he has to.”

“Fuck you don’t know Rick man.” Shane snarls, running his hands over his head and pacing even more, leaving Daryl to lean back and watch him continue to go back and forth. “He’s got a saviour complex or some shit, he feels the need to save everyone even if they ain’t worth it, even if it puts those he’s meant to be protecting in danger. He’s not made for this world, he’s not tough enough, he can’t protect them at all, he’s-“

“Your best friend?” He interrupts, getting pretty pissed off with how this was going right now. Shane didn’t seem to understand anything and he wasn’t exactly ready to start joining the Shane pity party right now. Not when he had other things on his mind and all this guy seemed to think about was himself.

Shane sneers at him, striding forward and grabbing at the tops of his arms, shaking him a little and trying to intimidate him of some shit into giving it. “Hey screw you man, you don’t know-“

“Shut the hell up I don’t know.” He snaps, shoving at Shane and getting to his feet, meeting the man eye to eye and unable to stop himself from letting it all out. “Christ you don’t know how fucking good you’ve got it do you? You’re too busy bitching about how tough this all is for you that you can’t see how fucking good you’ve got it. Your best friend came back from the dead and found you in a world that’s crawling with walkers, and you’re bitching that he ain’t tough enough to cope with it all? Fuck the man survived Atlanta, twice, to find his family and you’re here bitching because ‘he doesn’t know how to handle it’ all?” He can’t believe how fucking pathetic this all is and it seems Shane isn’t quite sure what to make of him right now either.

The other man tries to tower over him, trying to make him be quiet and it occurs to him that this is probably the most he’s spoken to the other man and of course it’s a fight of sorts. “You need to shut the hell up Dixon.” Shane has the gall to even jab at his chest, well that ain’t gonna fly. Smacking the hand away he continues, not willing to back down in this fight, not this time.

“No you need to fucking listen Walsh. You’re bitching about your best friend coming back from the dead and meanwhile I’m sitting here not knowing if my own brother is dead or alive out there in this mess. You don’t know how fucking lucky you’ve got it man. Out there somewhere you’ve got a woman who’s got some sort of feelings for you, she’s carrying your baby, her kid already looks up to you and your best friend is there protecting them through this crap and no doubt searching for you. And you’ve got the fucking gall to bitch because she ain’t admitting to you being her baby daddy?” Daryl takes a moment to catch his breath, panting a little heavily and glad when Shane doesn’t try to interrupt him. “Who gives a fuck who the kid is going to be calling daddy at the end of it? Fact is when we find ‘em no matter what you’re gonna get to be a part of the kid’s life and help raise it, whether as a parent or a godfather or honorary uncle or some shit. It ain’t no big deal, ain’t like we can do no tests no more to find out who is or ain’t its daddy. You’ve got all that waiting for you out there, they’re looking for you out there and what have I got?”

Shane at least has the decency to look a little ashamed of himself when he points that out, and Daryl has to take a second to stop himself from becoming a pathetic mess like he had back at the quarry. This wasn’t the time to start bawling over Merle like a pussy again, and he wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand even though they’re not wet at all. “The only person that ever gave half a shit about me is out there, maybe dead, maybe alive, maybe a fucking walker for all I know and heck I’m not even sure if my son of a bitch brother is even looking for me at all! Somewhere out there, you’ve got everything you ever wanted waiting for you at the end of all this shit, meanwhile I ain’t never had nothing and this shitty world is taking that away too!” He’s yelling, he’s not entirely sure why he’s yelling, but it helps in some way and he doesn’t care if every walker in the world can hear him right now. Fuck them all.

“Christ what the hell did you think was going to happen?” He asks Shane, all worked up with nowhere to go and hating that there was no way to let it out. “Can’t believe you’re complaining that your best friend’s wife isn’t willing to leave her suddenly alive husband to run off with you instead. Nor is she willing to piss of her husband and upset her kid when she can play happy families when the world is falling apart around her.” Did Shane think the world revolved around him or something?

Shane shakes his head, letting him yell himself out and when he talks again he simply hisses to him, trying to be threatening and failing miserably. “You don’t know anything Daryl, you don’t know what I’d do for them, all of them.”

Daryl snorts, folding his arms in annoyance that Shane thought he was a fucking wonderful compared to the rest of them. “I know you’d kill for them. I know you killed Otis for them, to get the medical shit to save Carl.”

“How the hell did you know about that?” And now Shane looks fucking stunned, as if he was gonna go running for the cops and tell on him. He can see the fear in his eyes and he’s both pleased with it being there and that Shane might actually see him as something more than a dumb redneck.

“You people need to stop thinking I’m so dumb, I saw you had his gun, kinda hard for the guy to make a final stand without a weapon don’t you think?” He scoffs, pacing himself before holding out a hand and ticking off a finger with each item on his list. “So let’s compare shall we? You’ve got a baby, a woman and kid who owe you their lives, and a best friend back from the grave willing to greet you with open arms into his family.” Sneering he huffs over it all, hating this all, hating his position in this world and how he’s been shoved into it with no chance of changing the outcome. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck out here with a man who’d kill to get back to them all. So yeah, excuse me if I don’t agree that you got the shit end of the stick right now.”

He shoves Shane back out of his way, grabbing his bow from the bed and storming over to the window, shoving it open and climbing out, hating how worked up he’s gotten, hating that now he can’t stop wondering about Merle and hating that he fucking pauses when Shane calls his name.

“Fuck you.” Daryl yells back, climbing the roof, ignoring the sigh he hears from Shane and settling himself up high with a cigarette, trying to calm himself and his anger back down.

Fuck Shane. Fuck him and Merle and everyone else for doing this to him.


	10. Chapter 10

Shane doesn’t think he’s ever heard Daryl snap quite like that before. Sure he’d heard the man yell and cuss, swearing his little redneck ass off until he was red in the face and trying to catch his breath, but that was probably the most Daryl had ever spoken to him in one go. The man was a fucking annoying and mouthy little shit, but the real problem with it all was that as he ran the words over and over in his head, he realised that maybe Daryl was right.

Not about everything exactly but he could at least see where the other man was coming from with all his anger. Shit, he hadn’t thought about all of this from Daryl’s point of view at all, not for a second had he taken a moment to think about what his companion was going through, he’d been too caught up in himself and trying to work through his feelings for Lori, for the baby, for Daryl and for Rick all at the same time. He’d been so mixed up in himself he hadn’t even considered that Daryl was really having a tough time with all of this as well.

As far as he’d been concerned Daryl was just a tagalong for all of them, whether they be in a group or it be just the two of them, Daryl seemed to just follow along and hunt every so often. Thinking back on it now he didn’t think they’d given the man a lot of time to think after he’d got back from losing Merle. Maybe in the rush of the attack at the quarry and the quick move on to the CDC Daryl had just gone with the flow and thinking back on it now he doesn’t remember if anyone ever actually asked the man what he wanted to do.

Now he was sitting on the roof in a self made spot of isolation and probably smoking his way through the remains of the cigarette packet he still had.

Sighing to himself he rubs at the back of his head, feeling guilty all of a sudden and unsure exactly what to do about it all. Daryl was a complex fucker, there seemed to be a lot more to him than he’d assumed and now he really didn’t know how to approach him about everything.

Still every fibre of his being urged for them to move on from here and search for the group. He needed to find Lori, he needed to find the group again and make things right with her and get to be there for his baby. It was just natural for a man to want to be there for his unborn child, he was sure of it but if he found the group it meant Rick would be there as well, the man who Lori was in love with and the one person he didn’t know what to do with.

He’d had him in his sights before. Way back a while ago he’d had the chance to kill Rick, one shot to the head, quick and it would have been over with. Then Dale had been there, calling him out on it and sticking his nose in to it all. Thing is no one understood his situation, they didn’t know what it was like to be pushed aside by someone, to be forgotten and left with nowhere else to go.

Except maybe Daryl.

Sure the other man wasn’t in a rivalry over a baby with his best friend, but Daryl had lost his brother and been left to tag along with them after it all. Honestly now he thought about it, it seemed as if Daryl had just done what he needed to in order to survive rather than what he wanted to do. He wonders what he would have done if he’d had the chance, would he have stayed and waited at the quarry? Would he have headed back into Atlanta to try and find Merle and help him? He couldn’t be sure and he’d never even thought to ask before now.

But his best friend had come back to him, unlike Daryl he hadn’t been left on his own and Rick had come back with that same smile on his face and God he remembers how grateful, how thankful Rick had been to him for saving his family. Hadn’t that been the point anyway? When he’d left Rick in that hospital, certain that his best friend was dead, he’d immediately gone to save Lori and Carl for him. It had all been for him, in his memory. They were the only family he had in the area that he could save and they were all he’d had left of his best friend. They’d needed him in their grief and he’d been there and they’d been there for him.

Whatever had happened between himself and Lori had been completely unplanned. It just seemed to happen and through all the pain and fear of losing Rick somehow things felt real and safe again if only for a moment. It was something to cling to when the world went crazy and it was something he could understand and focus on through all of it, when everything else changed, he could make her happy and she him. Somehow it had become more for him than it had for her and Christ then Rick had come back and everything got messed up again.

Maybe it was just the stress of everything getting to him that had made him lose his temper with his best friend or maybe he was so used to being the one in control that suddenly having Rick show up and take command had pissed him off. Either way it felt like every so often he just went off the deep end, losing all control and unable to stop himself from just wishing Rick would fuck off again and leave it all how it was. When things were easier to deal with and Lori wasn’t hating him and turning him away.

Everything he’d done for her he’d done because he loved her, he loved Carl and he’d loved Rick as a best friend before all of it. Christ, things had been so hard after he’d died and they’d had to get moving, but they’d gotten through it together and then he had just shown up like a white knight, a ghost come back to life and mocking Shane and all his efforts. Now he was out there somewhere with his whole family and a baby on the way that Shane is sure he was going to be raising as his own.

God everything was so fucked up.

The man was his best friend. Even through all of it he’d been there when Rick had been lost after Carl had been shot, he’d held him, he’d been the strong one and this was how he repaid him? By stealing away Lori and his baby?

Only…only Lori really wasn’t his was she? Neither was Carl and though it grated him to even think it, maybe Daryl was right about the baby. Biologically it was his, but what did that matter? The baby would be a member of that family, of Rick’s family and cared for by all of them. But then there was the rest of the group and how tight they were all getting. Without them even noticing it they’d become their own mini family at the end of the world and maybe they were all going to get to be with his child more than he would.

Was it so bad of him to want to be a part of his child’s life? Now it really wasn’t, but the fact of the matter is it was Lori’s child too and he couldn’t take that away from her so the baby would be a part of Rick’s life as well. There was nothing he could do to change that and as Daryl had pointed out what had he expected to happen? For Lori to leave the safety of the group and Rick to run off with him? There was no happy ending at the end of all this, and she needed safety right now and so would the baby. It made more sense for her to stay with Rick, to stay with her husband of nearly ten years who she knew and loved and had had a child with before.

Could he blame her for that? Of course not. Looking at the bigger picture and focussing on more than just his wants for a moment he can see the sense in it all for her and the baby. How could he be so selfish with the life of a baby who hadn’t even been born yet?

Rick was a good father. He knew that, heck he’d been there through it all before with Carl and he’d seen how Rick had grown into the kind of man that Carl respected and wanted to be. Maybe he wasn’t exactly ready for this new world they lived in, but then again Rick hadn’t felt ready to be a parent either the first time and he’d flourished once he was a few months in.

He remembers just how much he’d missed his best friend when all of this had started and how desperate he’d been to save him. God he’d tried so hard to get him out of there, as if by some miracle Rick would have woken up in his arms and managed to survive the trip to Atlanta and everything would have been perfect for all of them. But he hadn’t and he’d been devastated and then elated when he’s shown up alive and well. At what point had he forgotten how much he loved the other man? He was his brother in everything but blood and he’d pushed him away because of what? A whole lifetime of friendship gone because he’d accidentally gotten Lori pregnant? Yes it was a big deal, but they needed each other in this world just as much and Lori and Carl needed both of them together and not fighting.

They needed to find them, to get back to the group and fix this whole thing between them. Daryl was right, he’d get to be a part of the baby’s life when they met up, even if Lori had her doubts Rick would want him there to help as he had been with Carl. He’d gone and fucked it all up because of his temper again, letting his emotions control him instead of the other way around and he knew Rick always warned him about that.

Taking a deep breath he glances at the window Daryl had climbed out of, wondering exactly how to approach the other man and broker a peace between them. He’s sure somewhere along the lines he owed the man an apology but he knew if he started the list would be never ending. It wasn’t like he’d ever been particularly nice to the other man, not even whilst they were pressed together and jerking each other off, he always had some anger and need to control behind it all. Not that Daryl seemed to mind some of that, but he figured maybe he could be a bit more approachable to the other man. Besides its not like any of this was Daryl’s fault.

In fact he was probably more to blame for all of it than Daryl was. If he hadn’t been so worked up by Lori that day they would have made their way back to the farm earlier and maybe they would have been there before the herd and gotten out with all of them.

Scanning the room he goes through their belongings, checking through each back for what he wants and coming up empty. Of all the things he knew that could begin to heal a rift between two people, or at least make it easier to talk to them, alcohol was the top of the list and they seemed to be sorely lacking. Tossing their bags altogether by the bed he heads back downstairs, checking each room they’d cleared before and using his training to find the elusive hidden alcohol. It was a family house so it would be away from the children, possibly a hidden stash somewhere for the father to enjoy once in a while. It doesn’t take long for him to unbolt the cupboard under the stairs and find what he wants. There’s not much of a selection, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and besides he didn’t want either of them unable to focus.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two clean looking glass from the kitchen he heads back upstairs, making sure to keep their path clear if they needed to leave quickly, but checking everything else was secured. Closing the bedroom door he notes that Daryl still hasn’t returned and figures now was as good a time as any. He was feeling calmer and he’s sure Daryl was too by now so he might as well take the first step.

Setting the glass down on the side he pours them both a healthy amount before heading to the window, leaning on the sill with a glass held out to the figure smoking on the edge of the roof. Daryl is still sulking but he’s not tense and Shane knows he’s made enough noise for Daryl to tell him to fuck off if he wanted to, so he takes that as a good sign. “Whiskey?” He offers, swirling the liquid about in the glass and at least Daryl turns around when he speaks, glancing at him over his shoulder before his gaze falls to the glass.

Shane leaves the glass on the sill, moving back inside the bedroom to drink his own and feeling rather like he was trying to coax a stray cat inside with no pressure, but gentle coercion. Daryl drinks the whiskey in one large gulp before climbing back inside, almost deliberately not looking at Shane as he moves to hang the crossbow on the bedpost by its strap before heading over to the whiskey bottle and pouring himself some more.

The silence between them is awkward but Shane figures it’s a start to have Daryl even in the same room as him so soon after a fight so he takes that as a good step forward. Instead of sitting on the edge of the bed he moves to sit on the floor beside it, leaning back against the bed instead whilst he sips his drink, preferring to take his time. Now he’s had the initial buzz of the alcohol Daryl takes his time as well, staring at the liquid in the glass rather than looking at Shane.

“I’m sorry about your brother man.” Shane makes sure to keep his voice steady, not mocking in anyway as he talks to Daryl, wanting to make sure the other man knew he was being sincere. “Weren’t fair he got left like that and I know you didn’t exactly get much of a choice in what to do afterwards.” They’d pushed forward so fast it seemed like Daryl had just gotten caught in the current with them.

Daryl shrugs a little a moves to sit on the floor opposite him, leaning against the wall beneath the window and leaving a couple of feet of space between them. “’s okay. Knowing Merle he’s probably out there somewhere pissing off another group of survivors or something. Besides he always has a way of showing up sooner or later.” Shane finds it incredible how Daryl honestly does believe his brother is out there somewhere, despite his words during his anger fuelled rant, right now Daryl doesn’t seem to have a doubt in his mind about Merle being alive through all of this.

Even if he doesn’t believe it Shane makes sure to laugh at the idea, nodding along with it if Daryl wants to pretend. “We could go look for him if you wanted?” He offers and Daryl takes a moment to just watch him before replying.

“Nah it’s all right. You’re family is way nicer to me than he every was and besides like I said, Merle has a habit of just showing up unexpected anyway.” There’s pain in his eyes when he speaks and Shane wonders if maybe Daryl doesn’t believe in Merle’s survival as much as he thought. “We should keep looking for the group, find ‘em all besides it’s easier looking for them since we know they’re around here somewhere.”

He nods, drinking more of the whiskey before taking the bottle from the bedside table and pouring himself more, setting the bottle between them and within easy reach for both if they wanted it. Shane takes a minute to think through his plan, the spiral pattern was a typical way to look for criminals, people tended to stay within the area they knew instead of moving outwards, hopefully Rick had enough instinct to keep the group close to where they knew it was safe and where Hershel could recognise a few places.

“How come you came with us?” He asks, because really if Daryl had wanted to stay he knows the man would have put up a fight, both verbal and physical if he’d wanted it enough. “I mean shit you made it pretty clear there was no love lost between us all.”

In a second Daryl is chewing on his thumbnail again and Shane knows he’s asked something too intrusive again, the habit was a tell of Daryl’s that he was feeling uncomfortable and it doesn’t surprise him when he won’t meet his eyes as he replies. “Didn’t have nowhere else to go, besides, I just didn’t want to be alone again.”

“Again?”

“Just been on my own a lot.” Daryl shrugs and Shane knows that right now they were better off in a pair, it’s one of the reasons all cops had partners anyway, every one needed backup in stressful situations and the walkers were definitely a stressful situation to be in. Together they stood more of a chance and really he was glad to have someone else there too.

Tipping back his glass he wipes at the whiskey caught at the corners of his mouth before speaking, trying to keep casual even if there was more hidden behind his words. “Well you ain’t alone no more man, you’re stuck with me for the moment.” And maybe that thought doesn’t bother him as much as it did at the beginning of it all.

Across the way Daryl smirks a little and gives a nod, fidgeting with his glass a little before draining it, holding it out for Shane to pour him some more whiskey. “You got it worse, you’re stuck with me.” Daryl chuckles and Shane joins in as he pours them more drink, a little more than the standard measure but he had a feeling neither of them cared right now.

Settling back with his drink he watches Daryl for a moment as that awkward silence descends upon them again, leaving Daryl chewing on his thumbnail and him wondering how conversation always came so easy for him with anyone else. Daryl was different, the man spoke more with his actions than his words anyway and Shane had a feeling he was going to have to let Daryl get something out of it if he wanted to get to know him at all. Besides, all he knew about the other man was that he had a brother and was a feisty shit in a fight and he made the most delicious noises when he came, but that wasn’t really enough to pass each day by if they were going to be travelling together for the foreseeable future. Fortunately he’d been a teenage boy once and knew exactly how to tease information from someone when he wanted to and he figured it was a way Daryl would enjoy as well.

“Hey Daryl? You ever played ‘Never have I ever’?”


	11. Chapter 11

Daryl doesn’t understand exactly why Shane looks so amused when he shakes his head in reply, this sort of thing happened a lot. It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to have missed out on what could be considered part of a ‘normal’ life. More often than not it was people talking about celebrity gossip when he had no clue who in the hell they were or why they were famous, but sometimes it was shit like this too. Apparently it was a game teenagers played to get drunk and really he did not understand that at all, why would people ever need a game to get drunk?

Still he figures it can’t hurt, they’re relatively safe, there haven’t been many walkers around and the house is secure enough for them to not get themselves into trouble. Still he didn’t know why Shane felt the need to talk so much, everyone always seemed to want to talk all the time and it was something he wasn’t used to after having lived by himself so long. Besides whenever someone did show up it was Merle and his brother and he knew each other so well they barely needed to speak.

Taking up the bottle of whiskey he pours more into his glass, sipping at it as he watches Shane. Really the whiskey is pretty strong but he doesn’t intend to get completely plastered, not when they weren’t as safe as before in the CDC, there was still the threat of walkers catching them off guard if they weren’t careful. But one night of fun couldn’t hurt, what was the point of surviving if you couldn’t live?

“Alright.” He leans back against the wall, slumping a little and letting his legs fall open so he could watch Shane across from him. “So tell me about this game.” Hopefully it didn’t involve moving too much, right now he couldn’t be bothered, not when the whiskey was warming his belly and mixing with the relaxation brought on by the smoking.

“Well it’s a drinking game of course, thought we could use it to get to know each other better since it seems it’s just gonna be us two for a while.” Shane’s leaning against the bed across from him and though Daryl figures they probably know each other pretty well in some ways he knows that’s not going to pass time as they drive.

“Makes sense.” Shrugging he takes another gulp of whiskey, fumbling in his pockets for another cigarette to keep his fingers occupied and huffing a little when he remembers finishing the few he had on the roof. Instead he lets his head thud back to the wall, nodding for Shane to continue. “So how does it work?”

Shane grins to him, looking rather pleased with himself and Daryl has a moment of worry that maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to this game. But it couldn’t be that bad, it had drinking involved so he’d probably be a natural. “Well we take turns saying things we have never done and if the other person has done it they take a drink. Kind of like a yes or no game, but with drinking involved and of course you can ask for the details.”

Well that could be rather invasive and there were some details of his life he certainly wasn’t going to be sharing with Shane anytime soon. Chewing on his lip he watches the other man, noting the way he’s smiling, looking eager, almost desperate for him to agree to it all. But there doesn’t seem to be any malicious intent there, in fact Shane just looked as if he wanted some fun. “What sort of things?” He ends up asking, deciding he’d make his choice after a bit more of an explanation.

“Well for example; Never have I ever fired a crossbow.” Shane gestures to him a little, raising his own glass and making a point to look across at his.

“So I drink ‘cause I have?”

“Exactly.” So he does, gulping down some of the whiskey and feeling it burn at the back of his throat. Well this game seemed fairly easy and if it was questions like that then heck, he could take them. A part of him wanted to ask exactly how you win the game, his competitive nature rearing up inside of himself but really he figured with most drinking games, the winner was whoever ended up drunk.  “Now it’s your turn.” Shane continues and Daryl finds himself suddenly very aware of how blank his mind had gone.

Well it was okay for him to take his time, he’d never played before and from the way Shane was looking at him he figured the other man probably had a stash of questions ready for this situation. Shrugging a little he kind of gives up, but hey the point was to get drunk anyway. “Never have I ever played never have I ever.”

“That’s a cop out, but it’s your first time playing so I’ll let you off this time.” Shane grins, knocking back the remains of his glass before reaching for the bottle and refilling his drink. “You know the first time I taught this to Rick he barely drank a thing, guy was far too well behaved for a sixteen year old.” Daryl nods a little and figures this was the part where they were meant to elaborate on their answers a little and actually get to know each other. Okay. He could do that and heck, it would be nice to know something about Shane that wasn’t about how hard he could press against him. “Speaking of Rick, never have I ever been shot.”

Raising his glass to his lips Daryl frowns for a moment before sitting back, frowning at Shane and wondering the rules of this whole thing. “Does that really count though? It was just a graze, barely even clipped me.” Unthinking he reaches up to his head, feeling the small scar that scratches beneath his hairline, fading each day but still there and noticeable beneath his fingers.

“Knocked your ass out, and drew blood, I think that counts.” The other man laughs a little but it’s not mocking, it seems to be in actual mirth so he forgives him as he prods for more. “Come on, next one.”

“Never have I ever gotten caught by the cops.”

Shane rolls his eyes and sighs to the ceiling before looking back to him with a small pout and makes a scene of not drinking. “That’s not fair, I already knew that. That’s your last freebie Dixon, next time I want something I didn’t know.” And then that playful smirk is back and Daryl hates that he can feel himself relax a little more because of it. “Never have I ever passed out from drinking.”

Snorting to himself he drains the entire glass and really if they were doing this by the amount of times he should drink the entire bottle. Shane chuckles across from him before shifting close enough to pass over the bottle, letting their fingers brush a little as he does so. “You try growing up with Merle as a brother and not ending up passed out from drinking.” He grins, feeling the whiskey start to loosen his tongue a little and actually kind of wanting to share some good memories with someone else. “Honestly you can’t say no to him and if I wasn’t dragging his ass home then he was dragging mine, it was just a case of who got completely wasted first really. If we both got trashed we’d just sleep wherever we fell really. Ended up waking up in some really weird places more than once.”

“Tell me the weirdest one.”

He notes that Shane hasn’t moved back against the bed but it’s probably because it was easier to share the bottle like this. “Weirdest one was when we woke up in Old Man Jeffers’ barn. Turns out cows are cuddly sleepers.” And he laughs; actually fucking laughs because he can remember the look on Merle’s face when a cow had woken him up by licking at his brother’s face. This is actually kind of okay for a game and though he doesn’t have the best questions, he still wants to find out more about Shane. “Okay my turn; never have I ever left Georgia.”

“Really?” Shane watches him for a moment before drinking, making a face at the taste of the whiskey and wiping at his lips afterwards. “Never ever?”

“Never ever. Heck before the walkers and shit I’d barely left my hometown.” He replies, moving to chew on his thumb a little as he watches Shane. People usually don’t care to get to know him at all, they all take one look at him and assume he’s a redneck piece of shit that wasn’t worth their time. Sure maybe they were right, but that didn’t mean they should just assume it because of how he looked. Shane didn’t seem to mind though, even if he did think he was redneck trash, it hadn’t stopped him from anything. Swallowing back whatever worry he had about prying he forces himself to ask. “What about you?”

“Well I’ve travelled all over Georgia training for the force. Everything else was visiting family and vacations and shit.” Shane gets that look in his eye, the one where he was thinking back to easier times and there’s a smile on his lips when he continues. “Heck can’t think of a summer I wasn’t forced into the back of the family car to spend hours staring out the window and waiting to get to some point of interest. Was never anything good like New York or the Grand Canyon, was always some shitty war museum.” Daryl would have taken any kind of vacation over never seeing the world, but he didn’t feel the need to voice that when Shane takes his next turn. “ Never have I ever dyed my hair.”

“Something we’ve got in common.”

“Hell no I don’t believe that.”

“What?” Glancing up he can’t help but flinch when Shane moves closer, until their knees are touching and the other man is peering at him closely. Setting his untouched drink to the side he prepares himself for whatever was coming and is surprised when Shane reaches out to run his fingers through his mop of untidy hair.

It’s a little strange being this close without doing something else, but the whiskey takes the edge off his nerves enough to make him stay still, just allowing the touch and fuck maybe he leans closer just a little to let Shane runs his fingers through all of it. He was so stupid to be acting like this, but heck Shane had been the one that moved, he was the one touching so maybe it was fine. When Shane leans up on his knees to inspect his hair closer, looking for any signs of it being coloured, he wobbles a little and really it’s only instinctively that Daryl reaches out to steady him.

“You were blond when we met, now you’re edging on full on brunette.” Shane scoffs from above him, barely phased by any of this whilst Daryl was trying not to stare at Shane’s chest. He swore the man unbuttoned his shirt on purpose.

Shrugging a little he tries to regain some kind of composure. “My hair does that when it gets long.”

“Fuck off that kind of shit doesn’t happen.” Shane doesn’t believe him, tugging at his hair gently as if it was a wig that might come loose.

“Does too.” Daryl shoves back a little, shifting to meet Shane’s eyes and returning the smile he finds pointed down to him. “I ain’t never dyed my hair, bet if I cut it it’d go blond in the sun.”

“I’m gonna find some scissors, I need to see this happen.”

“Hell no, not when we’ve been drinking. I know I ain’t exactly proud of my appearance but I draw the line at cutting my hair after having some whiskey.” And when Shane goes to stand he grabs at him, yanking on his belt and pulling him back down to sit on the floor with him, uncaring if now they were right beside each other. “Sit down it’s my turn anyhow.” He continues, trying to think of how to get Shane’s mind off his hair and onto something else. “Never have I ever shot someone.”

Shane groans a little, not bothering to move back over to grab his empty glass and instead just taking a pull directly from the bottle. Some of the mouthful slips from his lips, and Daryl hates when he watches its trail down to Shane’s chest. “Now you’re just trying to get me drunk, I’m a cop you know I’ve shot people, it was my job.” Okay maybe he’d wanted Shane to drink but heck it was a drinking game for a reason. “Besides you’ve shot someone, Rick said you shot a guy in Atlanta.”

Shaking his head he rolls his eyes a little. “Yeah, in the ass, with an arrow, that doesn’t count.” He points out and soon finds Shane shoving the bottle in his hands, completely ignoring the glass beside them both.

“Yeah it does, take a shot as a penalty.” Shane is grinning to him, but there’s a moment where he tries to look firm, as if he were the referee of this game and Daryl should obey him. Well he was the only one who knew the rules and really it was a kind of shooting.

“Now you’re trying to get me drunk.” Daryl murmurs but presses the bottle to his lips anyway, taking a good healthy gulp and swiping at his mouth afterwards.

“Tell me when it’s working.” Shane mumbles but before Daryl can question just what the hell that means the ex-cop is talking again, loudly taking his time to dawdle over the question and meeting Daryl’s eyes as he waits for an answer. “Never have I ever done the walk of shame.”

He leans back against the wall, wary of sounding like an idiot but not wanting to ruin the game by drinking or not drinking to something he doesn’t understand. “What’s that?”

For what it’s worth Shane doesn’t laugh or mock him, he just smiles and leans into him a little. Daryl’s not sure if he should feel as reassured as he does from it all. “When you have a night with someone and then have to walk home in the morning in the same clothes you were wearing the night before. If you see anyone that was drinking with you it means they know you didn’t go home to change.”

“Heck I’ve slept in a barn, of course I’ve done that too.”

“No man, not like that.” Shane chuckles, but it’s not at him, more like just at his misunderstanding. “Walks of shame only happen if you had a one night stand at someone else’s place. You wake up the morning after sleeping with someone, drag on your clothes and head home.”

Well that explained the shame part of it all. Taking the bottle he gulps back a mouthful, uncaring when Shane raises an eyebrow his way and probably wants an explanation. Not today. “Well I’ve done that too.” He murmurs and he doesn’t give Shane time to push for more, instead he asks his question to distract him. “Okay, never have I ever been skinny dipping.”

“You serious?” That has Shane’s attention and before he knows it Shane’s arm is across his shoulder, pulling him in closer and he blames the whiskey for the pathetic flush across the back of his neck as he takes another drink. “You? Daryl Dixon, have never been skinny dipping before?”

“Never have I ever, that’s the game isn’t it?” He shrugs and leans into Shane more, feeling his body heat against him and he doesn’t care that it’s not his turn when he takes another drink. “But heck with the lack of working plumbing I’m sure I’ll be doing it soon enough.”

Their entire lives have been flipped upside down by this whole incident and though he was used to roughing it himself, it was clear the rest of the world was finding it tough. He might be able to eat anything he caught, and he didn’t give a shit about his appearance, but for him the toughest part of it all was having to cope with other people. Right now the only other people around are Shane, and he doesn’t hate that as much as he thought he should. Shane’s fingers tighten on his shoulder, keeping him close, holding him there and for a moment it doesn’t feel like such a scary place to be.

Lifting the bottle again he swallows a few more mouthfuls, needing the burn of the whiskey to stop him from over thinking things and acting more pathetic than he already had. But despite it all Shane was still here and still beside him, wanting to get to know him better and see him as a person, not just a redneck dirt bag. And maybe he was starting to see Shane as more than just a dickhead cop with an attitude problem.

Trying to focus on the game he finds his voice again, fully aware of how Shane is watching him get through the whiskey before taking the bottle for himself. “How exactly is this game meant to be fun for teenagers?” He asks, stopping Shane from pulling back and away from him, missing the easy heat against his side when Shane shifts a little. “I mean not that I’m not enjoying myself but you know, I can’t imagine playing this as a teen.” But really he couldn’t imagine doing a lot of things as a teenager.

Shane takes a pull of the whiskey, running his tongue over his lips to catch the lingering drops of alcohol and fuck Daryl probably shouldn’t be watching him so closely. “Well it’s usually in a group so there’s more stories to share, and things to laugh over, and besides it usually takes on a more sexual tone anyway. It’s kind of used as a way for people to get to know who’s had what experience and everything.”

For a moment Daryl wonders if that had been Shane’s game all along, to find out what level of experience he had and see what he was willing to do. But thinking back he can’t recall any of those questions being asked and Shane wasn’t the kind of guy that wouldn’t get right to the point of he wanted to know something. Reaching out to the bottle he doesn’t care that Shane watches him take a few more gulps, needing the burn in the back of his throat and the dulling of his nerves the whiskey gives him. “Shane, never have I ever…”

“Daryl you don’t have to-“

He shakes his head, fumbling himself to his knees in front of Shane and setting the bottle to the side so he can instead grip at Shane’s shirt. It feels like he needs to say this, or at least acknowledge this thing before he loses the nerve. “Done a lot of things. I mean I’ve slept with a few girls and stuff, but I ain’t never done much more than that. Especially not with a guy before. I mean I ain’t never had a relationship proper before or nothing and I ain’t… I ain’t saying what this is or what it ain’t. I just…it’s somethin’. It’s somethin’ ain’t it?” He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for this right now, but it’s like all the worry and uncertainty he’s been feeling for the past few days has bubbled up inside of him and he needs something to hang onto.

And right now Shane is the only thing worth hanging onto.

“Yeah.” The relief he feels over one word is insane but he goes with it, watching as Shane nods to him and making sure not to miss a thing. “Yeah it’s somethin’ man.” The arm around his shoulders drag him closer and then there’s lips on his, he’s being pulled into Shane’s lap and he’s moaning lightly, pressed against his body heat and uncaring about anything else other than this.

Daryl lets Shane take control, finding it easier to give in and when it came to this he was a follower not a leader. A tongue strokes across his lips and Shane tastes of whiskey and security, moaning into his mouth, his hands moving over his body easily and seeming to know exactly where to touch to make him feel good. He ends up straddling Shane’s lap, fingers trying to work out buttons desperately as he arches closer, feeling Shane’s hands move down to work on his belt.

Familiar hands run over his crotch, shoving away fabric of underwear and rubbing over his cock, making him bite Shane’s lip to stop a gasp from escaping. When Shane’s shirt is open he’s running his fingers over the other man’s chest, feeling his muscles, running his hands down his sides and fucking groaning because he shouldn’t like this so much. Tugging at Shane’s pants they work between them to shuffle them down, letting him wrap his own fingers around Shane’s length and enjoying when he gets to swallow a groan from the other man.

This is something he can lose himself to and he finds himself enjoying making Shane shudder beneath him as much as he enjoys having it done to him. Bucking his hips a little into the touch Daryl wraps his free arm around Shane’s neck, tugging him closer, kissing him harder and enjoying the mix of whiskey and Shane on his tongue. Beneath him Shane bucks up, dislodging him a little and making him huff out a small laugh as he falls back into Shane’s lap. There’s a chuckle against his lips, Shane’s fingers tug his boxers down further and there’s some movement beneath him that he can’t focus on when Shane’s fingers squeeze around his cock again.

Moaning into the kiss he grinds into Shane’s fist, arching back a little when Shane moves to start biting at his neck, kissing and licking over his skin until he knows there’s going to be a bruise there later. It’s a little thrilling to know there would be evidence after the fact. Shane’s fingers move from his cock but the teeth on his neck is a good enough distraction and he moves his own hand to grip at Shane’s other shoulder tightly. “Fuck.” He finds himself whimpering and pressing closer to Shane’s body, grinding their cocks together a little.

Shane’s hands move behind his back and really he should probably be asking him exactly what is so important that it couldn’t wait, but then Shane’s hand is back on his cock and he doesn’t care so much. They remain that way for a while, him thrusting lazily into Shane’s grip before returning his own hand to stroke again, running his thumb over the tip of Shane’s cock and enjoying the hiss from his lips.

“Say you want me.” Shane mutters against his lips, and Daryl moans before nodding, feeling certain of this one thing more than anything else right now.

“I want you.” He murmurs, not moving back from the kiss, eager to let Shane’s tongue invade his mouth and make him moan again and again. Of course Shane doesn’t disappoint and soon enough he’s bucking into his grip again, letting his hips work easily and panting at it all. The whiskey has given him a pleasant buzz, enough to let him feel more relaxed than usual but he still tenses when Shane’s wet finger brushes against his entrance. Freezing in place he stays pressed flush against Shane, eyes closed, lips just pressing together and trying not to ruin this whole thing.

“I got you.” Shane murmurs and kisses him again, his free hand slowly stroking over Daryl’s cock and the other not doing anything more than just remaining where it was. He tries to focus on the kisses instead and the way Shane was rubbing on him, making him feel so good even if he was a little uncomfortable. “Just need you to relax.”

Daryl tries, he presses harder into the kisses, digs his fingernails into Shane’s shoulders and relishes the hiss of pain he gets in return. Shane’s bare chest is pressed against him, his cock is hard against his stomach and fuck those fingers on his cock were as amazing as always. Moaning into the kiss he can feel the foreign pressure of Shane’s finger against him, and then inside of him and he’s not entirely sure how or what he should feel.

“Fuck Daryl.” Shane moans and Daryl tries not to move as he gets used to the sensation. It’s not exactly unpleasant, it’s just not something he was used to, whereas he knew he liked the touch of Shane’s fingers around his cock, so he pays attention to them and the kisses. Then Shane’s finger strokes over his inside and it’s enough to make him arch a little at the feeling, pulling back from Shane’s lips to pant and just breathe for a moment, until his finger strokes over something and he’s gasping in surprise in Shane’s lap. “You like that?”

Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat he tries to voice that yes, he did like whatever that was, but the words won’t come and when Shane does it again he ends up groaning and nodding his head frantically. It felt good, more than good. It was as if Shane had flicked a switch inside of him and suddenly the worry of before had gone because damn if he could just keep doing that then Daryl didn’t care what else he did. “More.” He mutters, burying his face in Shane’s neck, still gripping at his shoulders and unable to focus on anything else other than how that feeling had made his cock feel harder than ever.

“Uh uh, what did I say about asking properly?” Shane teases him and Daryl can hear that fucking smile in his voice, he can feel when Shane’s finger stays still inside of him and he almost whines in want. It’s pathetic and he remembers before, on the bed when he’d been woken up by Shane and he knew what the other man wanted.

“Please Shane.” There’s no shame anymore, not when Shane crooks his finger a little, just touching the edge of whatever that was and he’s trembling, hanging onto him as he begins downright pleading for more. “Please, I want you to make me come. Please do it again.” He groans into Shane’s mouth when he’s kissed again, panting with his body sending twitches all over. He doesn’t feel in control of anything anymore and that thought should be terrifying but instead it’s just overwhelming.

That fingers swipes over it again, gentle and light, a promise and a tease all at once and he’s mewling, his cock jerking against Shane’s belly and he’s bucking closer, not sure if he wants more fingers on his cock or more inside of him. Shane takes the choice away and there’s more pressure in his behind before more pleasure, Shane rubbing over that spot and fuck. “Yeah you like that? That good huh Daryl?”

He can’t reply, not when he’s too far gone and his mind has pretty much left him a mess, his body just going with what felt good and grinding into Shane’s fist before pressing back against that feeling. He’s quivering all over, his fingers are knotted in Shane’s shirt, he’s breathing heavily into his shoulder and Shane barely has to do anything to have him so undone like this. Somehow he manages to nod, groaning and writhing, lost to the feeling when Shane’s fingers begin a constant massage inside of him, rubbing over that spot in the most wonderful of ways. “Shane…” He somehow manages in a hushed whisper, clinging tighter as feeling that familiar feeling inside of him, feeling more heightened than usual.

“Are you gonna come Daryl?” Shane mutters to him, his voice dark and deep in his ear, dirty and full of hunger. “Am I gonna make you come all over yourself huh? Fuck you’re so tight around my fingers, I can feel you like this, come on, let me make you come Daryl.” It’s pathetic and he should be ashamed but it’s enough to push him over the edge, his hips bucking against Shane as he comes with a strangled cry, his cock pulsing for longer than usual and leaving him gasping, slumped against Shane as his cock twitches. He’s shaking, brain on the fritz as the pleasure washes over him, leaving his clinging to Shane and feeling his cock leak more come over them both.

It should be disgusting, he should be horrified at what he’s done, but instead he’s too shaken up to care. Shane groans against him and he’s aware the other man is grinding up against him, getting himself even messier in the process. “Shane-“ He goes to try and offer something but it seems Shane doesn’t have time to wait for him to recover and before he knows it he’s on his back on the floor with Shane leaning over him.

“Fuck that was so hot.” Shane groans, his own hand around his still hard cock and Daryl can see he’s leaking, a mix of precum and Daryl’s own come over his skin. “Knew you like it, fuck, making you come like that, I wanna do it again.” Lips are over his again and he kisses back breathlessly, enjoying the view of Shane above him, his bare chest covered in sweat and come, tense and strong with that necklace swaying between them as Shane strokes himself. “Wanna make you come like that when I fuck you.”

He’s already flushed as it is, so Daryl figures Shane really can’t see when he blushes at the thought and he quickly lets his hand join Shane’s, rubbing over his cock and enjoying the feel of him being so worked up over the thought. “Want you to fuck me.” He mutters, rubbing his thumb over the tip and feeling Shane groan against his mouth. “Want you to come Shane. Want you to come for me.” He remembers Shane had liked that before and it seems he still does and with a grunt Shane is coming over him, his own come mixing with Daryl’s on his skin, leaving him a mess and Shane too when the other man lays himself on top of him.

They’re a mess, a panting mess of half clothed bodies and come on the floor of a house they’d fortified during the end of the world. It’s so fucked up it should be hilarious, but it’s not, it’s something else. Shane shifts enough to kiss him, their lips meeting with a half hearted moan and a mix of whiskey and half uttered promises for the future.

After they’re as clean as they’re going to get he wonders what happens next, after they’ve taken such a big jump forward in such a short space of time. Right now he’s lost, unsure and still too fuzzy from the whiskey to think too much about it all. Shane kisses him again, fingers running over his skin as he copies the motion, letting the other man lead him to he bed and helping him get undressed. It’s a small thing but he doesn’t question it, instead he slips under the sheets with Shane, the pair of them in their underwear and he in his tank top, and tries to forget about his worries until the morning. At least he could have one night without his worries plaguing his mind.

Shane’s hands run over his sides, there’s a few more kisses until they’re pressed together in the bed, foreheads resting close for a few moments as they just take a moment to breathe. There’s not a lot of time to relax in this world anymore and Daryl is relieved they get to at least have this moment, this night, if only until they woke up. He’d take what he could for now.


	12. Chapter 12

The world is so quiet nowadays that it’s the mix of sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains and his bed partner kicking him that finally wakes Shane up. For a moment he forgets where he is and though he’s aware this isn’t his bed, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d woken up in someone else’s. Rolling onto his side he gives himself a moment to remember where he is and exactly who he’s sharing a bed with, peering at a still sleeping Daryl through sleep bleared eyes. His head is feeling pretty good considering the amount of whiskey the two of them had consumed the night before and he hopes Daryl isn’t going to be hungover and even more difficult to deal with than usual.

Last night had been more revealing than he’d bargained for, and Daryl had told him more than he’d asked for, looking so trusting of him and uncaring about what might happen afterwards. Honestly he felt as if he’d been intruding, but Daryl had been the one to push forward, climbing into his lap and sharing his past so eagerly. Shane remembers the kisses, and how fucking good it had felt to have Daryl squirming in his lap, not so brash and bold when he was panting and whining for more when Shane’s fingers were deep inside of him. A part of him is worried about Daryl’s reaction when he wakes up, but he’s not going to let that happen if he can help it.

They have to move on today, he knows they need to get moving to try and hunt down the group, the map he’d been pouring over giving them somewhere to start. Right now though the thought of moving from the comfortable bed seems foolish and he lets his eyes close for a moment, just a second to remember that there is still comfort in this harsh new world. He misses the little things most of all, after months of sleeping in a tent, having a mattress and pillows with sheets is almost too good to be true.

He wonders if the others managed to get some of the tents away with them, or if they’re all sleeping in the cars they took. Either way it wouldn’t be comfortable, Lori wouldn’t be showing yet, but she’s probably going to have something to say about having to sleep in cramped conditions when her back began aching. He remembered how grumpy she’d been with Carl, when she’d been young and asking questions of everyone she met about her first pregnancy. She’d been beautiful even as she’d gotten bigger, complaining about anything and everything and carting about the extra weight of unborn Carl. Rick had been more panicky than her, constantly on edge and unsure how to help. There had been days he’d ended up at Shane’s apartment, kicked out by Lori because he was driving her insane with his constant questions and Shane had had to fix the fight they’d had for them.

The memories are probably the worst part of it all, having the knowledge that times had been so much easier before and now they were left in a world full of decay and death. Still there were some things that made it bearable, and he was never one to go down without a fight and neither was Daryl so he knew that if any two people had a chance of making it out here, it was them. Finally he opens his eyes to admit defeat and begin the task of preparing for a day of driving and scavenging for more supplies. Right now they had enough to get by but he knew they couldn’t afford to ignore any tinned food they found or anything useful. They had a car and since they didn’t have to bear the weight themselves it meant they could stack up as much as they needed for the moment and the foreseeable future.

Really Shane is loathe to get moving, a part of him believes that he and Daryl could make it here, using the river as a source of water, keeping this house as a safe base and actually making a life out here in their corner of the world. But that’s not an option, not when the group were out there somewhere and he knew they could be safer and happier with them. Reaching out he runs his fingers over Daryl’s side, shaking him a little to wake him and getting a grunt in reply. “Come on man, gotta get moving.” He mutters, and Daryl sighs loudly, rolling to face away from Shane and grumbling to himself. Shane smiles a little at that, noting how similar they were in some aspects yet so different in every other way.

Clearly words were not going to work so he’d have to simply make Daryl move in another way. Shuffling closer he moves to press against Daryl’s back, uncaring of the close heat and moving to run his fingers over the edge of his waistband, trailing the pads of his fingers over Daryl’s skin. Again Daryl grunts but he doesn’t pull away, leaving Shane to mouth at the back of his neck, letting his fingers run over soft skin, trailing upwards and beneath Daryl’s vest until he reaches the edge of a mottled scar.

And like that Daryl is awake, jolting out of his arms and standing beside him, breathing heavy and looking panicked down at him. It’s not the start Shane had intended to coax the other man into and he sits up himself, holding out his hands in a non-threatening manner as Daryl tries to blink himself awake. “Hey it’s okay man, it’s just me. You all right?” He doesn’t know what he did to set Daryl off but he knows where he is, Daryl looks pissed as hell.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Daryl snarls, moving to grab at his pants and yank them on, quickly covering himself and leaving Shane feeling a little exposed in only his underwear. When he gets off the bed to grab his own clothing Daryl isn’t looking at him, instead he’s scanning the room, snatching up his crossbow and checking his knife, looking flustered and checking his clothing is in place. “Don’t…you don’t get to touch my back.”

He sounds completely on edge and Shane wants to comment that it’s a bit stupid for Daryl to enjoy his fingers shoved inside of him but doesn’t want them on his back, but he keeps that thought to himself and instead gives a lazy shrug, as if he doesn’t care at all. He figures he’s pushed Daryl enough in the past few days, he could give him this little boundary if he needed it. “All right, I didn’t know. How’s your head? Not hungover are you?”

Daryl watches him for a moment, seeming to weigh up whether he was actually being honest before shaking his head, looking a little bleary but no worse for wear than usual. Good, it wouldn’t do to be hungover and fighting off any walkers they came across. “Didn’t drink nearly enough for a hangover, I’m fine.”

“Good, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” Shane finishes dressing himself, leaving his shirt unbuttoned to keep himself cool in the heat and running his fingers through his sleep mussed hair. If he notices that Daryl seems to lets his gaze wander to his bare chest every so often he doesn’t mention it and he certainly didn’t leave it unbuttoned just for that reason. “We take the car and keep going, if we search all the areas I circled on the map we should be able to avoid the main roads but keep close enough that we’d hear any vehicles coming.”

He nods and as if that were the starting gun they’re moving, two men checking their weapons, clearing the room for anything useful one last time and scooping the almost empty bottle of whiskey into a rucksack. Both of them don’t have much to talk about as they check over the car, making sure everything was in place and their emergency packs could be grabbed at a moment’s notice. Breakfast turns out to be more beef jerky and a pack of chips between them, Shane starting up the car and giving a sigh as they leave the garage, looking back in the mirror as the small peaceful hamlet fades from view in the distance.

They drive for a while, letting the Georgia countryside pass them by on either side as they stick to the back roads, only ever seeing the occasional walker, nothing worth stopping over. A few times they pull over to go over the map or take a break from driving, the two of them sharing small talk over nothing much at all and switching seats in the car. He’s in the passenger seat when they finally reach something worth investigating, a small village store and a couple of other buildings near it, but it’s something new to look at so they pull up to investigate.

The place hasn’t been gone through too bad and heck there’s a pharmacy down the way that they make sure to go through and take what they need. Overall Shane is impressed by the pitstop, enough to take Daryl’s suggestion for a break here for a while as a good idea. It’s quiet, there’s been a couple of walkers but they’re easy to avoid and duck around, besides the place looks as dead as they do. Going through the small store they pocket a couple of things, a box of matches, some string and odd things people never thought of needing until they didn’t have them. He’s quite pleased with their haul, shoving some bags of candy in his backpack when Daryl is beside him looking on edge.

Before he can ask what’s wrong Daryl’s hands are on his side, dragging him down behind the shelf and crouching with him, moving to take up his crossbow and nodding towards the outside. It’s faint but Shane can hear it, the slight telltale rumble of a car, and the crawl of tyres on the road and the sound of an engine getting nearer. He grins, trust Rick to take his time trying to find them, heck the whole group had probably headed this way for supplies and had stumbled upon them by accident.

When he goes to stand Daryl’s fingers stay snarled in his shirt, keeping him down and making him snarl a little as he tries to pull away. “What’s you’re deal man? It could be Rick and the others.” He hisses, batting at Daryl’s hands and ignoring the look of utter disrespect and anger on the other man’s face, but he remains down all the same, meeting Daryl’s eyes for an explanation.

“Or it could not be.” Daryl mutters, peering through the items on the shelves at the door of the shop, waiting on the newcomers and looking ready to fire. Shane hates that and reaches out to grab at the crossbow, keeping the damned thing lowered and not a threat.

“So what? Maybe they’ve seen them and could help us? Numbers are safer nowadays you know that.” He continues, not willing to give in to the thought of it not being them. They’ve been alone for long enough surely, they’ve made friends and gotten enough supplies for everyone, right now they could do with some good news. Besides they’d been in this area for a while, it had to be them, Rick would keep them all close and safe in an area he could control.

Maybe he’s too hopeful and he’s sure Daryl can see it in his eyes but he’s not willing to give up, not when they’ve finally got a sign of other humans being alive and well. It’s not much but it’s something and right now he’ll cling to that with both hands instead of being dragged under by Daryl’s pessimistic attitude. He needs this ray of hope, after so long with no sign, he just needs something to let them know they weren’t clutching at straws and that if they could find anyone else, there was a chance of them finding the group.

“Shane…” Daryl looks unwilling to continue the fight and chews on his thumb, a motion that Shane knows means he has more he wants to say. But he’s not going to give him the chance, not right now.

“Daryl, what if they’re willing to give us help?” He tries to persuade him, meeting his eyes and moving his hands from the bow to Daryl’s shoulders, not willing to give up on what could be their one chance for hope.

“What if they’re not?” Daryl responds and for a second Shane feels as if he’s fighting with Carl, with a child who doesn’t seem to understand the way things work. Then Daryl continues and he knows the fear that’s hidden beneath his words are anything but childlike. “You want to take that chance?”

No, he doesn’t want to take any chances, he’s sick of every choice they make being so difficult and having so many potential problems, but this one could turn out so well if they were lucky. They hadn’t met any other people, no one aside from the Vatos in Atlanta or the Greene’s and everyone had come out of those incidents alive, well and with more supplies and knowledge. This could be the same for them now if they just played it right.

The bow is still tilted towards the ground and though Daryl is still tense, Shane takes the lowering of his weapon as a good sign and shuffles a bit closer, peeking to the door before cupping Daryl’s face. “We took a chance on you and your brother at the quarry, what makes this so different?” He asks, tilting forward close enough to tease, almost taunt Daryl with himself. Licking at his lips he knows he’s pushing it, but he really wants this and he doesn’t want to be the bad guy by making all the tough choices again.

Daryl looks away for a moment, his fingers tightening on the bow but not pulling it up to fire. He looks on edge and Shane recalls when the Dixons had first joined their camp at the quarry and how uneasy Daryl was around new people, how he’d always hide behind his brother and skulk on the edges of the group. Well this wasn’t a time for Daryl’s insecurities to play on their possible saviours. Still Daryl meets his gaze again, his voice low and with a hint of his stubbornness in it. “We’re not in the majority here. There’s two of us and God knows how many people out there, you willing to risk it?”

Shane licks at his lips again, reaching a hand up to run over his close cropped hair and glancing back at the door, relieved when the bell above it chimes and two men enter the shop before he has to answer. Beside him Daryl tenses again, ready to stay hidden or pounce if he needed to and Shane squeezes his shoulder a little when the men call out to them.

“Hello? Thought we heard voices, anyone there?”

There’s a moment where he pauses, hesitating and just watching Daryl’s face. The other man doesn’t shake his head or beg for him to reconsider, but there’s this look in Daryl’s eyes, one that lets Shane know what he wants without asking. Carefully he reaches out to tug up Daryl’s collar a little, pressing it to stay in place and cover the bite marks and bruises littering the skin of his neck, unwilling to explain those away right now when it’s clear these people were not from their group.

“Yeah, don’t shoot we’re alive.” He calls out, not looking away from Daryl until the last moment, when he stands with his hands raised and a smile on his face. Beside him Daryl stands also, not moving an inch away from his side and Shane just knows that crossbow is loaded and ready to go. He can’t blame Daryl, the man seemed to have trust issues by the bagful but he doesn’t want to seem too aggressive right away. “Just hunting for more supplies when we came across this place.”

The men are both armed. The shorter with a handgun that he slips into a holster when he sees they’re friendly and the other with a shotgun strapped on his back. They each look calmer when he pushes Daryl’s bow down a few more inches before stepping around from the shelving unit, they seem more relaxed and even grin back to him. One is larger, more heavyset with a flat cap on and not looking well versed in the weapon, by Shane’s reckoning he’d say he was a more hands on kind of guy. The other is smaller but not skinny, built enough and more cocky if the way he stands is anything to go by. But this is good, they were more or less evenly matched and Shane knew Daryl could hold his own if it came to a fistfight.

He smirks a little at the observations he makes; once a cop always a cop as Rick would say.

“Yeah saw your car out front, pretty packed full of stuff. Looks like you guys got a good haul.” The shorter guy nods to the doorway, stepping through the shelves and looking over the items left, picking up a bottle of half empty booze and sniffing at it. “Name’s Dave, that fat bastard over there is Tony.” He nods to his friend, leaving Shane to do the same politely before introducing themselves in return, especially since Daryl seems reluctant to say a word.

“I’m Shane, this is Daryl.” His companion does not so much as nod in their direction, instead Daryl pads his way further down the aisle, bow still held tight and keeping both men in his eye line. “We’ve been on the road a bit, got to keep taking what we can, never known when you’re going to run low or need something know what I’m saying?” Shane keeps the tone of the conversation light, not wanting to make enemies and it was easier to catch flies with honey.

“Yeah I do man, I know.” Dave nods, leaning back against the shelving and taking a swig of whatever he’d found in the bottle. The man seems nice enough, plenty relaxed as they chat but Shane makes sure to keep an eye on his friend all the same. “We both do. Pair of us been on the road a while, it’s fucking tough out there.”

“Nothing but fucking lamebrains chewing on everything and empty stores all around. Barely find enough to eat nowadays.” Tony butts in, shifting away a little to take a piss, stinking up the place worse than before. Shane thinks it tactically advantageous not to point out that the man doesn’t look to have missed many meals in his life and instead he nods along with it all.

“I hear ya. I’m just lucky Daryl is a good hunter. If it weren’t for him we all would’ve starved months ago.” He grins, glancing over to where Daryl is, still holding that damned bow and not relaxing even the slightest bit. He tries to convey to him to calm down through his eyes and silent motions, but if Daryl understands him he doesn’t show it, instead moving half a step closer to where Dave stands.

“All? You got a group or something?” Dave asks, pulling a face at the bottle he’d been drinking and beginning to go through the ones left on the shelving, pulling more forth and hunting through the supplies there for something of better quality. “A camp set up somewhere you’re heading back to?”

Bottles hit the ground as he searches, seemingly uncaring as he tosses aside whiskey, brandy, some empty cans, a few packs of fire lighters to find something better to drink. “Not anymore. We had a farm down the ways a bit but it got overrun by a herd of walkers. You want something better to drink we’ve got a bottle of whiskey in the car if you want?” He offers out the proverbial olive branch and can almost feel Daryl’s eyes glaring a hole into his back as he leads them out to the car.

It may seem stupid but he knew this tactic and he knew it worked. Offer something to get something else in returned, it worked well in hostage situations, and he’d become quite the negotiator over time, even if his patience wasn’t the best. Yanking the bottle from his pack he passes it over to Dave with a smile, noting the grin and thanks as Daryl sulks quietly whilst resting on the side of the car.

“Walkers you call ‘em?” Dave asks, catching his attention and probably thinking Shane doesn’t notice the way Tony is eyeing up the mountain of goods stacked up in their car. “Better than lamebrains I tell you now. So you lost the farm then? Where’re you heading now?”

Shane shrugs a little, leaning his back on the window of the car, pinning his shotgun to his back to seem unthreatening but leaving his sidearm easy to get to if he needed it. Everything seemed to be going well enough but he wasn’t stupid, this could go either of two ways and he was just hoping it would go his way. “Well when we lost the farm we got separated from our group, they’re out there somewhere and we’re trying to find them before moving on.” He explains, nodding to the back of the car and watching Dave openly for any hints of what he was like. “Was thinking we could make a trade, give you some supplies if you were willing to help us out, could do with some assistance finding them.”

“A trade?” Dave nods, peering in the window of the car and looking interested before gazing over to the truck he and Tony must have driven in on. The thing is battered and Shane notes there are no supplies in the back so they must have a camp somewhere out there, but everyone could always do with a little more if it was offered. “Well we’ve been running kinda low on fuel lately. Give us one of those jerry cans and we’ll keep an eye out for you, say we saw you and point them in your direction, got a meeting point they’d know?”

It’s good enough for the moment and besides Shane knows they’ve got at least three other cans hidden in amongst all the crap in the car. So losing one for information and possible help wasn’t going to hurt. Lifting the trunk he fishes one out, noting the way Daryl huffs a little and looks pissed at his choice to share and play nice with the knew kids. Handing over the jerry can to Dave he gives a small sigh, running his hand over his short hair as he can only think of one. “Just tell them where we lost Sophia. They’ll know. It’s somewhere we can check every once in a while and they’ll be safe there to wait for us.”

Even just mentioning the little girl’s name would be enough to get Rick back there, and even if it was going back on themselves it was definitely a good place to start. Hence why they’d gone there in the first place. Dave nods, seemingly impressed with the plan and willing to take their gas and go, everything seems to be working out well enough until Tony opens his mouth and Shane doesn’t even have to look to feel how tense Daryl is.

“You got any women in this group? I haven’t had a piece of ass in months.”

And like that he knows exactly what kind of men they both are. Of course he tries to play it off nice enough, with a hollow laugh and shake of his head, hands on hips and watching as Tony snickers about it. Only to Tony he can see it’s not a joke and he knows in a second that he doesn’t want these men anywhere near the group, especially not the women. Glancing back to the truck he gives a lazy shrug, as if the words haven’t gotten him feeling more on edge about this whole thing. “A couple yeah, not got any in your group then man?”

Dave laughs, loud and long before taking a swig of the whiskey, making a face of delight at the taste before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hell no, nothing but a sausage fest back at camp.” Shane watches as Dave tries to play it off nice, sidling up to Daryl and nudging at his side, trying to get the other man to join in on the laugh and not see the darker side to it all. Shane shouldn’t feel as proud as he does when Daryl merely takes half a step away from the man.

“We had some a while back.” Tony continues, either too stupid to sense the sudden rise in tension or uncaring of it. “But some of the boys got too rough you know what I’m saying?” He laughs, Dave laughs, Shane laughs hollowly and Daryl kicks at the dirt beneath his feet. This had been a mistake and one he didn’t intend to let continue any further if he could help it. Right now he’s just pleased he hadn’t given them any details about who was in their group and how they would identify them. He’s about to make a suggestion that they get going when Daryl stupidly has the urge to talk, right at the wrong time and with the wrong words.

“You need to shut the hell up you sick bastard.” Daryl snarls, stepping forward to Tony, all bluster and anger rolled into the mix. He’s growling, in Tony’s face and uncaring as the fat bastard fumbles for his shotgun behind him, jabbing a finger at his chest as he continues. “You fuckin’ rapists ain’t goin’ nowhere near out group, you sick mother fuckers need to back the hell off.”

“Hey fuck you! Just cause you don’t wanna stick it to them doesn’t mean no one else should get the chance you fucking faggot.” Tony yells back, not backing down from Daryl and Shane and Dave intervene before it can get worse, before everything goes to utter shit and the weapons are drawn. He practically grabs Daryl around the waist and yanks him back, getting himself between Daryl and Tony and putting a hand to the larger man’s chest.

“Just calm down.” He tries to keep his voice calm, in the same tone that Rick always used to use and it always worked so well for his best friend.

“Calm down? Calm down?” Of course it doesn’t work for him and he can feel Dave behind him keeping Daryl at bay from diving in again. “Don’t you go telling me to calm down! I’ll shoot you, and your damned boyfriend and your group. Fucking faggots thinking they can tell me what to do.” Tony rants, fury and hatred in his words and Shane wishes he’d fucking listened to Daryl earlier.

“Hey cool it!” Dave yells over Tony, moving away from Daryl to where he’d dropped the bottle of whiskey, dusting off the dirt before taking another pull of it. “No one is shooting anyone here right Shane? We’re just a couple of guys having a friendly drink and making a deal, no need to start a fight over nothing.” Shane is relieved when Tony backs off but he takes note of his position, stuck between the two men, caught in a pincer and at his most vulnerable. He doesn’t let himself relax when Dave continues talking, instead he keeps his wits about him and hopes that Daryl hasn’t stopped being wary this whole time. “Besides I dunno how much help we’re going to be anyway, I mean we’re hoping to head up to Nebraska soon. Big place with a few people but a lot of guns, you know what I’m saying?”

Shane nods but he doesn’t allow himself to blink, not when he can feel that this isn’t going to end well. Dave is all smiles with the bottle in one hand and the jerry can in the other, trying to look innocent and failing miserably. All Shane can think about is Lori and his unborn child and the fact that there were men like this in the area they were possibly travelling in. He knew there was only one way this was going to end up, he just didn’t know if he was ready for that yet.

There’s no more time to deliberate on it though and in a second Tony is moving as quick as his fat ass will allow, grabbing for the shotgun and Shane can barely hear the shatter of a bottle over the gunshot as he shoots Tony in the head with his sidearm. Not giving himself time to over think things he spins on his heel, both hands on his weapon and taking in the sudden new scene in front of him. Steadying himself he tries to keep his breathing steady, keeping Dave’s head in his line of sight as he takes it all in.

Daryl is on his knees, slumped with the crossbow kicked to the side away from him, he’s bleeding from a new head wound, the remains of the bottle of whiskey shattered around him on the ground. Dave stands above him, no weapon drawn but it’s worse than that. The jerry can is upside down and empty, the fuel from within covering Daryl from head to toe and Shane can see Dave breathing heavily as he presses his thumb to the striker wheel, ready to spark it up in a second. “Don’t move Shane, don’t you fucking move.”

He doesn’t, but he also doesn’t lower his weapon an inch, not when Daryl was looking off his game, probably going to be suffering from a concussion and covered in petrol. Fuck. “You don’t have to do this man.” He speaks slowly, carefully and wonders if he could get a step closer.

“You killed Tony Shane.” Dave hisses and his hand is trembling above Daryl, the other reaching down to yank at Daryl’s collar and keep his wavering friend upright. He can see the bruises on Daryl’s neck from this angle, he can see that he’s got no hope of surviving if that lighter sparks up and he has no doubt that a rapist wouldn’t think twice of taking revenge for Tony.

“He drew on me first man you know that.” He reasons, daring to move a step closer and freezing when Dave’s eyes flick to his feet for a second. Daryl groans in pain but clearly has no ability to help himself from this situation, Shane wonders if he’s even truly conscious right now. “I had no choice.”

Dave snorts, waving about the lighter as if he’s barely aware he’s still holding it, as if he doesn’t hold Daryl’s life in his hand. “Well I ain’t got much of one right now do I? Gonna kill me too?” He yells and Shane thinks it’s a miracle they haven’t drawn in any walkers yet.

“No, I’m gonna toss you the keys to the car.” He takes a hand off his gun, slowly edging it to his pocket to grab his house keys that he’s been carrying around out of habit, letting them dangle from his fingers in a show to Dave. “Take it, take everything just leave him be and I swear I won’t shoot.” And the thing is it was meant to be a bluff, but right now he feels fairly certain he’s not going to shoot, not when Daryl was in danger.

It takes a moment for Dave to think it all through and in that time Shane tosses the keys to him, letting them sit in the dirt at his feet and well beyond his own reach, giving all the power and the keys to Dave. “Put down your weapon Shane.” The man finally speaks, looking completely cornered, as if whatever situation he’d been planning, this wasn’t it. Shane knows the feeling.

“I’ll put it down if you put down the lighter man.” He offers, keeping one hand up and letting his grip loosen on the gun a little. He nods to Dave, wanting to be trustworthy, wanting to be the wonder cop that saved the negotiation by being friendly with the terrorists and managing to talk them down without any lives lost. Thing is there was only one life on the line and right now he’s not going to let it be lost. “We can do it together. On three right? On three we slowly lower them to the ground.”

He moves first, nodding for Dave to follow suit and he’s pleased when he begins to bend at the knee, slowly co-operating and mirroring Shane’s actions. It’s perfect, he can see Daryl wavering a little to the side but Dave’s eyes are on him, only fixed on him and the gun as they slowly get their weapons lower to the ground.

“That’s it. Nice and easy.” He coaxes, voice so soft and gentle, not at all dangerous or a threat. “No one’s going to get hurt, you’re just going to take the keys and get out of here alright?” He reminds him of the option of safety, giving Dave the mental picture of his way out as he watches Dave’s hand get merely a few inches from the ground.

The thing is, in lowering a lighter to the floor there’s a moment when you have to release the striker wheel in order to place it down gently and Shane waits for just that fucking second. Because you don’t have to move your finger from the trigger when lowering a gun.

Dave goes down with one shot to the chest, hitting him right in the heart and spattering the side of the car with his blood before he drops to the floor, landing on top of the discarded lighter with his final breath. Shane doesn’t take a second to wait, in a moment he’s sprinting over to Daryl’s side and grabbing at his face, trying to meet his eyes and finding him looking dazed and confused. “Shane?” Daryl murmurs and Shane figures that’s a good enough sign that he’s well enough to move, he really didn’t want to wait here any longer, not when the rest of Tony and Dave’s group could be showing up.

“Yeah man it’s me, we gotta go okay? Just hang on alright we’ve got to get out of here.” Slipping his arms beneath Daryl’s he yanks the man to his feet, letting him rest his woozy self against him as he practically drags Daryl to the car. It’s difficult but he manages to get Daryl inside the passenger seat, sitting him up as well as he can and trying to keep him from passing out. “Just stay with me alright? Won’t be a second.”

He’s as fast as he can be, grabbing up Daryl’s crossbow, frisking Dave and Tony’s bodies, not looking at their faces, trying not to focus on what he’s done and instead grabbing up their weapons and any ammo they had. It’s awful but it had to be done and if they were dead then they weren’t going to be needing them. As soon as he’s got what he wants he’s in the car, shoving everything in the back seat and starting it up, chocking on stench of the gas still covering Daryl and driving through the emotions that seem to have flooded over him.

They’re safe. They’re alive and driving the hell away from this place in the other direction with no intention of returning. They’d left nothing to show who they were or where they were heading, heck he wasn’t sure himself, so they couldn’t be tracked. There was no way they could be found, no one was going to be taking any revenge on them and they would be safe. He’d kept them safe, he’d kept them alive and that was all that mattered right now.

He’s still breathing heavily, his knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, driving them anywhere away from there fast, not wanting to be anywhere near more potential danger. Shane feels sick and he knows this feeling, he remembers the drive back after leaving Otis, after killing a man, another human being for the sake of someone else. He can remember how he’d driven as if demons were on his tail and looking to snatch his soul for being a murderer, much like he was driving now, only there wasn’t Carl at the end of the drive relying on him this time. This time the reason for it all was beside him, groaning in pain and looking blearily at the world as it rushes them by. He wants to ask if Daryl’s alright, but right now he’s more concerned about himself, if this was going to become a habit, if this was how the world was now if they wanted to protect others.

“Shane?” Daryl asks again, looking over to him from across the seat, his eyes never quite focussing and closing in a slow blink every so often.

Reaching out a shaky hand he grasps the side of Daryl’s neck, covering the bruise left there from before and keeping him steady as his head seems unable to remain upright of its own accord. “Yeah man?” His throat feels dry even though he’d not been shouting and every time he swallows he can taste the vulgar brashness of the petrol’s scent in the car.

It takes a moment for Daryl to continue, it seems words are a little difficult and he’s working through some confusion due to the concussion, so Shane gives him time and just holds him steady. “Shane, you killed those men.” Daryl mutters, and it’s not accusing, it’s not spat with disgust, it’s merely a statement and Shane finds himself nodding as he tries to sort out exactly what’s going on in his head at the moment.

“Well you said it before. I kill for the people I care about.”

Daryl rests his head on Shane’s shoulder the rest of the drive and he doesn’t protest at all.


	13. Chapter 13

Daryl doesn’t feel well at all.

His head is throbbing and it feels heavy, like he can’t hold it up properly by himself, so he’s grateful for Shane being there and for driving. He’s pretty sure he couldn’t drive right now, not when everything is a little blurry and his head doesn’t seem to be working right.

The window and side of the car is smeared with blood. The blood of that guy, Dave, the one that had hit him and made him feel like this. The guy had gone down with a shot to the chest, he remembers that part. He remembers the sound of a bullet penetrating flesh beside him and the thud of the body hitting the ground. He’d never killed someone before, not a real person, not a living person. He didn’t know if he could do it.

Shane had.

Three times now. Three whole times Shane had stopped people from living anymore since he’d known him. The man was tough, tougher than Daryl was if he could do that. But for some reason Shane was tense beneath him as they drive, the other man is stiff and rigid in his seat, not comfortable to lean on and breathing heavily. Daryl knows it can’t be easy to do such a thing, not when they were all trying to keep any scrap of humanity left within them. Sure Shane had shot guys before, he’d said so the other night, but there was a difference between in the line of duty and out here, now. When the only ones who could judge you were the ones left alive.

Like himself. He was alive because of what Shane had done for him back there and he wasn’t exactly sure how to take that. Shane had mentioned caring about him, about thinking him worth saving, about him being worth taking someone else’s life for. It was a strange thing to think about and his head was really hurting enough for the time being.

Breathing out a sigh he chokes on the stench of petrol still covering him, making him gag and bury his nose further into Shane to try and block out the smell of it. It’s too strong and it burns, chemicals and nothing natural about it in the small space of the car. He can tell from the breeze that Shane’s got the window down to try and air it out, but it’s not helping much, not when he’s covered in the stuff. It pools around him, dripping from his shirt, staining the seat he’s on and they’re probably going to be needing to switch cars it’s going to be permanent.

Coughing a little on the smell makes his head hurt, it aches and he can’t help but bring a hand up to where most of the pain radiates from. Blood stains his fingers and he lets out a small groan at that, he hated head wounds. The blood was fine, but the headache always made it hard to concentrate and right now he could barely think straight let alone look after himself and he hated being so dependant on anyone else. Even if it was Shane.

“Stop it man, don’t want to get it dirty and get an infection.” The other man tells him, reaching up to push his hand back down and away from the wound.

He knows Shane is right, wounds were fine but infections were dangerous, more dangerous than ever out here nowadays. Shrugging a little he remains pressed against him, watching the world fly by past the window as they got further away from danger and death. “’s okay, whisky will clean it.” He murmurs, remembering the sudden pain and burst of alcohol staining his skin and hair.

“I’ll fix it soon okay?” Shane continues and Daryl wonders if he’s even listening to him or maybe he’d just not spoken loud enough to be heard. Either way Shane is focused on driving and he doesn’t want to be a pain when they must still be in danger. “We’ve just got to get away from them, as far away as we can.”

Daryl doesn’t nod, it hurts far too much to even try, so instead he ignores the stench of petrol and tries to calm Shane down from being so on edge. “’m fine.” Besides, he’d caused enough problems for one day.

Shane sounds pissed when he speaks again, thumping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and huffing loudly. “No you’re not fine Daryl, you’re concussed and covered in petrol, any spark and you could go up in flames. We need to get you clean and patched up and find somewhere to hole up for a few days.” There’s a brief moment of silence as he leaves Shane to stew in his anger, his fuzzy mind working through the words and their meaning.

Daryl knew the house they’d been in was out of the question, it was too close to where they’d been, too easy to find and not secluded enough. They needed somewhere with more security, somewhere that would be easy to lay low in if they were quiet. He’s not exactly familiar with anywhere else in the world other than his home town, so he decides to leave it all to Shane for the moment, he figures the other man could probably work something out for them.

Then he recalls exactly why they were in this mess, why the conversation between themselves and the other men had taken such a sour turn and he shakes his head as much as he can, forcing himself to sit up a little to get Shane’s attention. “No.” Blinking a little he tries to clear his vision from being so fuzzy, they didn’t have time for this. “We can’t.” Because the others wouldn’t be so far away and if they went too far they might lose them completely. “Shane what about the group?”

Shane doesn’t reply right away, he looks a mix of angry and frustrated, and Daryl isn’t surprised when the car stops in the middle of the road, leaving them sitting together in silence for a while. He doesn’t want to push, not when he doesn’t think he could take Shane right now, but he knows they have to make a choice here. “It’s just for a few days.” Shane mutters but Daryl can see the way his fingers clench around the steering wheel and he looks so unsure of his answer. “We get out of dodge for a few days and then come back, just until we’re sure we’re safe and you’re healed.”

The guilt churns within him as Shane explains the plan and he doesn’t want to be the problem here. They had enough shit to deal with without him causing more issues and getting them off course for a few days. “Shane, we ain’t got time for that.” He tries to push, sitting up just enough to meet his eyes and try to convince him.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Shane is breathing heavily, reminding Daryl of when they’d first lost the group and the farm, angry enough to scream to the sky and God himself. “Please tell me Daryl because right now I’m a bit fucking lost. I just killed two men back there to save your ass and if we don’t get somewhere safe then their group might find us and kill us both in revenge, then we really won’t be able to find the group. So what do we do?”

He doesn’t have any answers, all Daryl had right now is a throbbing headache and a body tainted by dangerous fumes that choke him. Shane is watching him so closely, there’s anger and worry in his eyes and something else that Daryl can’t and doesn’t want to place. “I just don’t want us to miss them because of me.” He finally answers quietly, slumping back in his seat as his head throbs. “I can handle it, I’ve been injured before.”

“No, we’re going to find somewhere okay?” Shane nods, determined and sticking to his original plan. “It’s fine, we’re going to just lay low for a few days, get ourselves back to full strength and then we can continue looking. That’s the plan alright?” Daryl doesn’t know if talking it through out loud makes Shane feel better or if somehow it makes it all seem like a better idea to him, but he doesn’t bother commenting.

Instead he carefully nods but it doesn’t mean he feels any better or really agrees with it. Daryl supposes over the years he’s just gotten used to giving in to fights when he knew he wouldn’t win them. Instead he goes back to watching out the window as Shane resumes driving them away from the area, chewing on his thumb and wondering if they would ever see the group again or if this whole thing was just a fool’s errand.

They drive for an hour or so more, the silence between them tense but he doesn’t want to break it and by the looks of things neither does Shane, so he leaves it be. The roads Shane is using are back ones, the kind that were only wide enough for one car and the trees sometimes scraped both sides of the car as they squeezed through. It reminds him of where he’d lived before all of this, where barely anyone went and things seemed so much simpler. Though he’d never exactly liked his hometown he still missed it, if only because it was familiar, and easier to navigate than his current place in the world.

When they find a place it’s not much at all but Daryl figures it’ll do for a few days. It’s a cabin, nothing fancy, more than likely a hunters cabin tucked away out in the middle of nowhere besides a lake for easy game. Shane pulls the car right up alongside it, there’s no walkers to be seen and Daryl is grateful for that, especially when trying to get himself out of the car is more difficult than he’d anticipated. Shane is there beside him, not complaining but just giving him support to get inside, steadying him when he stumbles and easing him down to the floor.

There’s no furniture inside, this was the sort of place city folk went when they wanted to play hunter. It was completely bare, nothing more than a square room with no windows and with a locked down hatch on the side facing the lake, somewhere to watch and stalk the deer without having to get dirty. Daryl hated people who pretended to hunt, they didn’t know what it meant to have to kill to survive. Well now they probably did. He knew the city folk that would have used this place would probably have bought their own supplies, a whole hunting kit from a sport’s store with a cot, a gas stove and one of those fold out chairs, meaning the only thing this cabin came with was a closed off toilet in the corner.

Still they had enough supplies for a good few days and though he wants to get up and help Shane bring everything in, he knows he’s not going to be any use right now in the state he’s in. Instead he tries to begin wriggling his way out of his over shirt, wanting to be free of the clingy wet fabric and the stench of petrol as soon as possible.  Shane brings in what they need, their emergency packs and a few others with food and sleeping supplies in, he tosses it all in the corner before heading over to him and Daryl wonders why he’s not trying to make their new home more comfortable right away.

When hands slip beneath his arms to help him get to his feet he feels stupid and weak but Shane doesn’t sound angry, instead he just sounds so resigned. “Come on man, got to get you cleaned up before we lose daylight.”

He snickers a little when he works out what Shane’s got planned and he doesn’t protest as he leans on him as they head outside to the small lake. It seems he was going to go skinny-dipping sooner than he’d planned. It doesn’t bother him at all when he and Shane wade into the water together, he really doesn’t think he could remain upright by himself right now even if the shock of the cold had woken him up a little.

“Need to get that petrol off you man, then we’ll get inside and I’ll fix up your head alright?” Again Shane talks and Daryl really does think he just needs to keep speaking things through even if he doesn’t want an answer.

Daryl shrugs in response, distracted a little when Shane removes his own shirt, tossing the fabric to the bank and leaving him naked from the waist up. He blames the concussion for his staring and when he loses his footing enough to slump into Shane’s side. Steady hands hold him upright and he’s even enjoying the warmth of Shane’s body against his until Shane’s hands move to grip at the bottom of his vest. Pulling away a little he tenses up, already shoving at the hands and he can feel a panic in his chest. “What’re you doing?”

“Told you man, we need to get these clothes off and you free of petrol, it ain’t safe for you to be covered in the stuff.” Shane voice isn’t pushy, it’s just calm and explanatory, as if he thinks Daryl can’t remember he’s covered in petrol. The fingers stay on his sides, not moving, but just keeping him in place and Daryl both wants them to remain and to get off of him.

If he didn’t think he’d fall over he’d punch Shane to the ground, as it is he simply takes half a step back and gives a huff of protest when Shane follows him. “I’ll do it, you go inside and get stuff set up.” Feebly he gestures back to the cabin, eyes focussed on anywhere but Shane’s face or chest and hoping he’ll think the flush is from the concussion and not shame washing over him.

“Daryl you can barely stand up by yourself, if I leave you out here you’ll probably manage to drown.” Shane sounds exasperated with him and Daryl is sure if this had happened a few months earlier he’d have been yelled at by now.

“Said I can do it, you deaf or something?” He growls, because anger is easier to cope with and it’s something to cling to when he’s unsure and his head hurts this much.

“No, but you’re concussed…you sure you’re feeling alright man? This ain’t the time to be shy, you gotta get clean. Come on you’ve never been skinny-dipping before right? Said you thought it would happen well here’s your chance.” He knows Shane is trying to help by making light of the situation, but right now it’s not helping at all. He knows how people react to seeing the scars on his back, they either ask or they just assume and give him those sympathetic looks. He hates them and every day he’s grateful that he can’t see the scars himself.

But Shane would probably laugh, or ask or say something and he really did not want to deal with that conversation; not now, not ever. Taking a deep breath he ducks beneath the water, soaking himself from head to toe and shaking his wet hair from his eyes when he resurfaces. “There, I’m clean, let’s go.” He feels shaky and sick from the quick motion and in an instant he’s clinging to Shane’s steady weight and regretting it but hoping it would have worked.

“Daryl for fuck’s sake the clothes are pretty much ruined, we might as well toss them. As for you? You need to get properly cleaned. Shit man it’s not like you’ve got anything I haven’t seen before, stop screwing around.” Shane’s past frustrated and onto anger, glaring at Daryl and fuck he doesn’t want to fight even if it’s easier than explaining.

Daryl removes his pants and underwear along with his socks, really he has no care about them, besides there really was nothing there that Shane hadn’t seen before. Then his fingers fumble at the hem of his vest and he wants to punch Shane to the ground, he wants to yell at him and scream for him to take a good fucking look since he was so desperate to see. Everything is coming to one big ugly head and his head won’t stop throbbing in pain as he gets more and more worked up about it. “Shane…” He doesn’t know how to explain the shame he feels over it all or how no one, no one else in the world had seen that part of him and he wasn’t ready for it to ever be shared. Smoothing down the edge of his shirt he doesn’t care if they fight, he doesn’t care if Shane takes the car and fucking leaves right now because he hates his ungrateful ass so much for being like this. He just can’t do it. “I need to leave my shirt on okay?”

It’s as close as he can get to an explanation and he knows it’s not enough, not when Shane gives a loud huff of annoyance and begins walking away from him, leaving him staring at where the water ripples around him at the other man’s movements. Shane wouldn’t understand, no one ever would and he didn’t need them to either. Maybe he’d ruined whatever tenuous link they had, and maybe Shane was regretting saving his ass, but to him there hadn’t been another option available.

He starts washing as best he can, ready to stumble his way back inside and try to give some kind of apology to Shane when the ripples start up again and he realises that Shane hadn’t gone back inside at all. Instead Shane is wading back towards him, not smiling or frowning, but just looking resigned and maybe a little understanding. “Meant what I said.” Shane speaks when he’s back beside him, and Daryl takes note of the balled up shirt Shane is holding out to him. “You need to get rid of your vest man.”

It takes a moment for the gesture to fully register but when Daryl takes Shane’s shirt from his hands and the other man turns around he feels something in his chest that isn’t exactly unpleasant to feel. Quickly he rids himself of the vest, tossing it towards the shore and uncaring when it ends up floating on the surface of the water. Shrugging on Shane’s shirt he lets it hang open around him, a little too big for him and he begins rolling up the sleeves to his elbows to stop them dangling around his wrists. It doesn’t fit at all, but it covers his back and that’s all he needed. “Thanks.” He manages to mutter and Shane takes that as a sign to turn around.

Hands move to his sides, not dipping beneath where the water laps at his waist, but just holding him in place for a moment as Shane moves closer to him. It’s not exactly what he’d call intimate, more like embarrassing being naked except for a too large shirt with Shane in a lake, but for a moment it works and feels all right. When Shane moves to kiss him he doesn’t protest, he doesn’t fight or do anything to make it feel more normal for them, but this is different from all the others and that feeling in his chest starts up again.

It’s slow and comfortable, brought on by something other than the need to feel alive and real in this fucked up world. There’s no games being played here or harsh words used to stir up emotions and get them both angry and the blood pumping. Instead it’s gentle, he’d say sweet if he thought he was capable of such a thing, and just something shared between the two of them in this moment. Shane rests their foreheads together like he has so many times before and Daryl can’t meet his eyes, instead he stays glancing down to where that necklace lays against Shane’s naked chest.

“For a second there I thought you were gonna leave me here.” He smirks, making light of the worry he’d felt before.

“Nah.” Shane chuckles and Daryl is glad that whatever tension had been in the air between them had shifted to something more peaceful so easily. “Spent too much time saving your ass to leave you behind now. Now come on, now you’re not so flammable I say we get into some dry clothes and get a fire going.”

They move inside together and at least Shane has the decency not to stare at Daryl’s naked lower half as they hunt out dry clothes from their supplies. Thing is despite the edges of it being soaked through, Daryl keeps on Shane’s shirt, buttoning the damned thing and ignoring the way it hangs about his waist since he doesn’t bother tucking it in to his pants. He probably looks a damned fool but he doesn’t care, he figures Shane has seen him in worse states than this.

Shane gets a fire going with some of the wood already in the stone fireplace and Daryl’s lighter, neither of them are exactly willing to have him so close to a spark right now anyway. Daryl takes a seat back on the floor whilst Shane hunts out their medical supplies and moves closer to him again, using the firelight to see by as he checks out the wound on his head. It’s not deep and he’s grateful for that because they probably had fuck all real medical skills between them, but Shane steristrips the two sides together before placing a bandage over it, the stickiness of the adhesive getting caught in his hair and pulling annoyingly.

“Looks like you’re going to have to be careful for a while, already figured you’re concussed but we’ll have to make sure nothing worse happens.” Shane sits before him, smiling lightly at his handiwork.

“Got my own personal nurse on hand, I’ll be fine, it’s nothing I haven’t handled before.” Daryl reaches up to fidget with the edge of the bandage, hating the way it tugs and pulls and reminds him of the head injury from Hershel’s farm before. Now it seemed he’d have a couple of scars there to show off.

“Still, we’ll spend a few days here until you’re back on your feet without needing help, then we’ll head back and keeping looking, sound good to you?”

For a second Daryl is surprised that Shane even wants to know if he agrees to the plan, honestly he was fine with just following most of the time, but still it was nice to be asked. “Yeah. Yeah it just sucks I’m going to hold us up is all.”

“Think of it as a few days to gather our thoughts and make a real plan.” Shane grins to him as he sorts through everything since he’s not much of a help when he gets dizzy every time he stands. The other man continues talking as he sets out a couple of sheets on the floor in front of the fire, some blankets added on top to make something resembling a bed of sorts for the two of them and Daryl doesn’t protest that there was no discussion of them sharing a sleeping space. “To find Rick we just need to think like Rick. He’d keep them on the move unless he found somewhere safe enough to stay for a long time and I know with Lori pregnant he’d want to find somewhere stable to hole up for them all.”

Leaning back against some of their packs he listens to Shane plan, enjoying that he’s included in this even if he’s not much help. “At maximum there’s about a dozen or so of them right? So they’d need a place with plenty of room for them all.”

“Exactly so we should rule out the smaller places and focus on larger buildings in out of the way areas.” Daryl watches Shane as the daylight leaves them in the glow of the fire and nothing more, the two of them drying off with the heat and leaving him dozing lightly onto his folded arms. “Rick would stick to the back roads and since they haven’t got a lot of fuel we can assume they’d stay in a relatively small distance.” Daryl hums in agreement, able to smell the scent of Shane that lingers on the shirt he’s wearing and letting the other man’s words wash over him. “Daryl? Daryl you can’t fall asleep yet man come on.”

Blinking himself back to the present he feels stupid for starting to nod off, but he felt a little out of it again. Shaking himself back awake he tries to focus on Shane’s words when he talks about needing something to eat and keeping their strength up but he’s so fuzzy that all he can focus on is the way that damned necklace was swaying about Shane’s neck. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him take it off, so it must be important to him but all it says is the number ‘22’ and nothing more. Shane continues, pointing to places on the map on the floor but all Daryl can see is the firelight reflecting off the silver charm. “What’s it mean?”

“What?”

He hadn’t meant to ask out loud but it seemed his head wound was making a complete idiot out of him today. Shrugging a little he leans back on his hands, nodding to the necklace about Shane’s neck and trying not to seem as interested as he was. “Twenty-two. It’s got to mean something to you, I mean I’ve never seen you take it off.”  

Shane glances down to the necklace, reaching up to finger it absently and smiling as he explains. “It’s my old football number man. I kept it to remind me of the good times and well, it kind of became a habit not to take it off.”

Daryl likes that explanation. He himself didn’t have anything to remind him of the good times, even if they were few and far between, he just had what he needed to survive. It was good that Shane had something like that, something to hang onto and help him remember that the world wasn’t always like this and that things could one day, maybe get better. “I like it.” He mumbles, figuring there wasn’t much more to say on the topic and feeling stupid for thinking it was anything more than it was.

“Me too. Hey man you look exhausted, why don’t you try and get some rest? I’ll wake you in a few hours to check you’re not feeling any worse okay?” Shane prods at him a little, and Daryl feels too exhausted to protest when he soon finds himself lying on the floor on top of their mixed and matched sheets all piled up for a make shift bed. Pillowing his head on his folded arms he can’t fight it as he lets his eyes close, burying his nose into the crook of his arm and able to lose himself in the scent of Shane and not the burning of petrol.

True he didn’t have a necklace to wear and remind him of the good times, but his bleary mind figured he still had something worth hanging onto. Even if it was just Shane.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mentions of attempted rape that happens in canon between Shane and Lori in the CDC. It is not portrayed in a positive light.

Shane has never been very good at taking care of anyone who was ill, but suddenly having to be responsible for a feverish Daryl was pushing him beyond the limit of his capabilities. He’d been awoken in the middle of the night by his bed partner kicking at him and shoving, whining in the darkness and when Shane had reached out to shove him in reprimand he’d found Daryl’s skin was almost burning to touch. Immediately he’d grabbed for the flashlight they kept on hand when they were sleeping, bringing the beam of light to shine over Daryl’s figure and hissing when he saw what he’d been fearing.

Daryl was in the midst of a high fever, sweating and trembling on the floor beside him and groaning in pain and discomfort. He tries to keep a calm head but times were different now and he knew where a fever would be an inconvenience before, now it was downright dangerous. “Daryl? Hey can you wake up for me man?” He tries, shaking at Daryl’s shoulder lightly and getting nothing more than a whine in response.

It’s no good, he’s pretty out of it and Shane knows this is all up to him now. Searching through their bags he grabs at everything he can think of needing and then some more, just in case, setting them all up alongside himself on the floor and switching on the lantern they carried. It gives him better light to see by but Daryl doesn’t look any better for it, in fact now Shane can see him better he’d say Daryl looked even worse. The man was trembling, his limbs jerking every so often with a shudder and it seems he can’t get comfortable in his own skin. His skin was covered in sweat, the clothes he’d fallen asleep in saturated in it and leaving him looking completely vulnerable.

It wasn’t a look that Shane liked to see on Daryl. The other man was one of the toughest sons of bitches he knew and seeing him like this, whimpering every so often and struggling to find a position that didn’t make him feel worse was almost painful. Reaching out slowly he lets his fingers run through the hair that covers Daryl’s forehead, pushing it aside to feel his skin and the fire that seemed to burn beneath it.

“That’s quite a fever man.” He murmurs, more to himself than to Daryl, but he found it comforting to speak things through sometimes, even if he was the only one listening. “Guess I’m not such a great nurse after all huh?” The humour is lost on Daryl and Shane knows he’s trying to make light of the situation as always but it was easier, especially since they were getting so used to having nothing to smile over anymore. Daryl groans beside him and he does what he can to help.

Their water supplies are high enough right now that he doesn’t mind using them to help, besides they had a lake they could purify if needed and Daryl was in need of some fluids. Quickly as he can Shane yanks off the blanket covering Daryl and moves to unbutton his shirt the man was still wearing, uncaring of how it looked as he stripped the unconscious man of his pants and left him in his underwear and an open shirt. Usually this would only be happening if Daryl was conscious, but this was not the time to start thinking about how he’d like to see this again under different circumstances.

“Just gotta try cool you down man.” Shane mutters, taking one of his tee shirts and dowsing it in water, letting the coolness seep in to it before folding it into a sizeable wad and placing it atop Daryl’s forehead. His patient gives a mutter of nonsense and shifts a little, clearly unaware as Shane tries to help him. “I know.” He continues, even though Daryl really hasn’t said anything in protest. “It sucks man but you gotta suck it up, want to get better right?” Even if Daryl doesn’t want to get better Shane wants him well again, he doesn’t do so well when he’s on his own with his thoughts and no one there to reel him in. It was one of the things he’d missed without Rick, he always needed someone there to tell him to cool off and back down when his emotions were controlling him.

Shaking himself free of the memories he continues pressing the soaked cloth to Daryl’s body, trying to mop away the sweat and bring him some relief from the heat. “I know you’d probably be complaining about us wasting more time and how we should get back to the group, but I think this makes it clear that we’re going to be here a few more days right?” He chuckles, moving over Daryl’s body, feeling how flushed he is and clammy under his touch.

It’s worrying him, he honestly doesn’t know what else to do about this whole situation and he doesn’t want to make it worse. Daryl huffs beneath him, squirming in place as he tries to peel away at the dressing on his head. The wound looks clean enough but he tears a sleeve from his tee shirt to dab over it anyway, glad that there’s no pus. Maybe Daryl’s not fully infected, maybe it’s just a fever from the strain of the day and he needs rest to heal. God he hopes so.

“Yeah I know you are a pain in my ass, but I’m not gonna just leave you here to die idiot.” Shane grumbles, redressing the wound and rinsing the cloth before re-soaking it, leaving it upon Daryl’s head and hoping it will do something to get him feeling better. “Maybe I would have done before but things have changed since then. This whole thing has been tough man, what with trying to deal with Rick and then Lori and Carl, I guess I didn’t give myself time to deal with it all.”

Thinking back to when this all began it had been so fast. No one had been sure what was going on, all they were told was about an infection overtaking but it had all been kept so hush hush that when it finally did break out there was nothing that anyone was certain of anymore. The world was lost in a great big panic and honestly Shane isn’t sure if he ever got to break free of that mode and get back to himself. He just remembers the deaths, the suddenness of it all and how he’d just done what he’d needed to at the time.

“I let it get the best of me.” He admits to Daryl, sitting beside him and checking on his fever ever so often as his patient muttered to himself. “I was so focussed on keeping them safe and out of harm that I didn’t care about myself.” Because during that time, after he’d lost Rick and the rest of the world and any sense, all he’d cared about was doing right by his best friend and saving Lori and Carl. There hadn’t been time to think, there had only been time to do.

“I let myself get taken over by the thought of surviving to the point where I think a part of me forgot how to be human. I did some real bad shit man, I mean back at the CDC I was so mad at Lori for going back to Rick, for taking Carl away from me and I was mad at Rick for not being there and for making me have to do that all for them.” Pausing for a moment he looks down to Daryl, aware that he hadn’t even admitted what had happened to himself yet. “I tried to rape her.” The words even sound disgusting, echoing in his mind and remember all those disgusting people he’d arrested for such a thing. What had he become to sink to that level? The lowest of the low.

Running a hand over his head for a moment he feels nothing but disgust for himself, revulsion rolls through his stomach and he can’t even look at Daryl though the man is still unconscious. If there was anything he could do to take it back he would do it, but he had to live with what he’d done and right now it felt as if he didn’t want to.

“I know. I know I’m a disgusting person and fuck if I’d have had any self respect I’d have shot myself there and then.” He tells Daryl, even if there’s no response from the other man. He still feels the need to apologise to him and fuck he can’t believe himself. What kind of a man was he?

“I just thought that I could make her remember somehow, that if we had sex she’d remember everything I did for her and how she’d felt back then.” He remembers, God he remembers his fucked up logic after too much wine and too many emotions washing over him. But that was no excuse, there was never an excuse and he hates himself for trying to explain it away.

“I fucked up. I fucked up so bad and I haven’t even really apologised to her properly for my fucked up behaviour.” Shaking his head he has to get up for a moment to pace around the tiny room, his shuffling footsteps accompanied by the small whimpers of Daryl in the dim light. If there was no other reason to want to find the group again then there was one. He needed to find her and apologise to her for everything and for trying to hurt her like that.

Things had been so hectic, there hadn’t been a moment to breathe at all. There had been so much going on, with the CDC and the Vatos, then the herd and Sophia and Carl being shot and fuck he’d been so overwhelmed by it all. He’d been planning to leave but hadn’t. He’d wanted to stay but ostracised himself. It seemed as if he’d not had a place in the world anymore and had been shoved out from whatever position he’d found in the world. Shaking his head he pauses when Daryl whimpers again, moving back over to him and kneeling next to his side.

Taking the cloth he rings it out, re-soaks and moves to press it lightly over Daryl’s chest, moving beneath his chin to his neck and trying to get him to cool down. Daryl at least breathes a little easier and he figures that’s a good sign. Taking a breath he tries to calm himself down, to refocus and not let his emotions get the better of him, not when Daryl was relying on him right now.

“Then there was the whole baby thing and fuck I wanted her to be mine so bad man. I wanted everything that I’d never had a chance to have before the walkers and shit. The happy family I’d been putting off to fool around instead, and suddenly it was like it was there in front of me and I could just take it if I wanted.”

It feels hard to admit it to Daryl but it’s something he’s been fighting for so long. Talking through things really does help him clear his mind, even if it seems insane to be talking to an unconscious man. But it’s easier and Daryl doesn’t judge so he continues.

“I should never have tried to do such a thing. I mean fuck, how dumb could I be? What did I think everything was going to end up a happy fairy tale with me and Lori raising Carl and our baby in this world? What we gonna have a house with a white picket fence to keep out the walkers?”

There is no future like that anymore, there is only what they can make for themselves and no one’s future will be so perfect. He just wants to survive this world and be able to live. Honestly Shane didn’t think that was asking too much, not when he’d tried so hard to get everyone else through it all. And maybe the future didn’t hold puppies and kittens, but it was still there before them to make of it what they would.

“It ain’t ever gonna happen now man.” He sighs, stroking Daryl’s hair back from his face and mopping at his brow. “I think I just didn’t want to see it before, I was just so desperate to survive and to have that, to have what I wanted since everything else had gone to hell. Fucked up huh?”

Daryl says nothing but he remembers back in the house, when Daryl had said what needed to be said. At first he’d been so angry with him for daring to stick his nose in where it wasn’t wanted but Christ, then he’d actually listened and it had all made sense. Daryl had seen the problems before he had and he’d even spoken so much sense that Shane finally understood what it looked like to an outsider.

“You were right. The other night at the house when you called me out on it all, you were right about everything. Fuck you barely even know me or Lori man but you saw it all right away didn’t you? Observant little shit.” He mutters, but there’s no anger, right now it feels more like a fondness for the man beside him.

“It ain’t my place to make her choose, fuck I should never have put her in that position in the first place but I let it continue when she started it. As if I could ever compare to Rick. He’s her husband and my best friend like you said. I know he’s a great guy and a great dad, I should never have tried to get between them. Fuck, if I was any kind of decent guy I’d let them get on with it and stay out of the way of it all.” He muses, thinking back to before the farm and when he’d been thinking of going off on his own.

It had been a tough choice to make and he’d tried to keep away from Carl and let the kid go, but it had been so difficult. He’d never wanted to leave them but he’d been wiling to do what Lori wanted and leave them to it. Some part of him had been feeling spiteful, wanting them to fail without him there and to realise that he’d done so much for them. But it had never happened and a part of him still wonders if Lori was glad he’d been separated from the group and if this was the chance she’d wanted.

Sighing loudly he watches over Daryl, finger combing the other man’s hair back from his face and smiling a little at the thought. “We could you know? If you wanted to? Stay out here, just the two of us living out here. You have to survive though and hurry up and get better because I can’t be doing with dragging your unconscious ass around the whole time.”

Again he descends to humour because it’s easier than thinking of the possibility of a bad outcome to all of this. But they could get by, just the two of them out here together in the wild. Daryl was the kind of man that revelled in that environment, they could hunt and continue scavenging and maybe they’d get by fine if it was just the two of them. But then what if something like this happened and they weren’t somewhere safe like this? It would be a huge problem for the both of them and despite everything that he’s done before, he wouldn’t want to be put in the position of choosing between himself and Daryl.

He doesn’t want to pull an Otis incident on Daryl.

“I know we need numbers though and…and I need to find Lori. And Rick. And Carl and I need to apologise to them all. I need to be there for them, for my baby too even if I never tell it they’re mine. I can’t leave them out here in this, I need to get back to them all and I appreciate you wanting to help me do that.”

Daryl seems to be cooling down a little, and he’s grateful for that, he’s not murmuring as often and not squirming quite so badly. It’s a step in the right direction and he moves closer to Daryl, sitting beside him on the floor and checking over his face as he wipes him down again. The other man seemed the type to protest over this kind of care, Daryl made a big deal over not needing anyone and being able to look after himself. Yet here they were and a part of him was glad he got to see this other side of Daryl.

“We’re going to find them you know?” He reassures Daryl even though he’s the one panicking. “Somewhere out here they’re probably holed up somewhere safe, like in a hotel or a school, somewhere big but safe with enough space and thick walls to keep everything dangerous out. I know Rick is going to keep them safe, I trust him, I just hope he trusts me to come back and to try and make up for all the shit that’s gone on.”

Because he wants to make up for it all and have everything go back to the way it was before all of this. He and Rick could make this work, they could keep everyone safe and increase everyone’s chances of survival. It wouldn’t be a perfect future, but it would be something to hold onto.

“Merle?”

When Daryl murmurs from beside him he lifts the cloth out of the way to see him better, smiling down to where Daryl looks up at him with bleary eyes and moans a little. “Hey man, nah Merle ain’t here.” Daryl doesn’t look great, in fact Shane isn’t exactly sure if he’s completely aware of where the hell he is right now. “It’s me, it’s Shane alright? You’ve got a fever, I’m just trying to help you cool down and feel better.” Moving the cloth and rinsing it again before dabbing it at Daryl’s cheeks, trying to meet his eyes and get him in the here and now.

“The fu’? I can’t, we’ve gotta…” Daryl squirms, trying to push at him with weak arms and sit up, making Shane move to push him back down and hushing him quietly.

He tries to keep him calm, making sure to keep his voice low and fully aware that they cannot afford to be so loud. They’ve been very lucky so far but already he can hear the slow shuffling footsteps of a walker outside, the creature scratching its broken nails on the walls of the cabin. He’s going to have to deal with it, they can’t afford to have more attention drawn to them when Daryl was like this. “Calm down, you’re alright here, just lay down and stay put whilst I go deal with the walker outside.” He tries to explain to Daryl, but it seems to make it worse.

“No.” Daryl is panicking, grabbing at his shirt and trying to drag him back down to the floor with him. “No don’t leave.”

Shane hushes him, pressing a finger to Daryl’s lips and glancing over his shoulder to check the walker wasn’t at the door. They don’t have time for this, not right now with a clingy Daryl who wasn’t in his right mind. “I ain’t leaving, I’m just going outside, I’ll be right back.” He tries his best to reassure him, but Daryl is still clinging to him tightly, panting with the effort. “What? You don’t trust me with one walker?”

“Please, don’t wanna be alone again.” Daryl whimpers, his bleary eyes unfocussed and clearly unaware of where he was or what was happening. Shane hates how he looks so vulnerable and he takes a moment to remove his finger from Daryl’s lip only to place his own against them in a gentle kiss. Daryl quietens but doesn’t stop from looking worried, still Shane takes the moment to unpeels Daryl’s fingers from his shirt and get free. It hurts to leave him when he’s like this, but he needs to go deal with the walker and he can’t have Daryl help right now.

A idea strikes him and though it’s childish and pathetic, Daryl isn’t exactly going to be able to complain or even remember this. Reaching up he slips off his necklace, removing it from around his neck and placing the chain and the ‘22’ charm in Daryl’s shaking palm. “Hey I’ll be right back man just…here hold this for me alright? Told you it was important before so you know I’ll be back for it in a minute.” Easing Daryl back to the floor he strokes over his hair one last time, keeping him steady before getting to his feet and leaving his necklace in his care. “Now don’t move.”

Daryl seems to slump in place on the floor, curling up a little and Shane figures it’ll have to do for the moment because he has other things to deal with right now. By the sounds of it there’s only one walker out there and he’s grateful for that. He may not be an expert at killing them, but he knew even he could deal with one by himself. Taking the flashlight he heads outside, knife already at the ready and keeping himself aware of his surroundings as the walker approaches him.

It snarls and gnashes its teeth at him, bedraggled and wet, as if it has been stumbling about on the edge of the lake before heading their way. Most likely she had been drawn over by the noise, Shane curses himself inwardly for needing to talk things through in the middle of the night. He doesn’t hesitate to take her down when she’s close enough, jabbing through her skull and letting her now silent body fall to the floor and lie there to rot away. Glancing through the darkness he can’t see anymore in the area and heads back inside, barring the door before going to check over on Daryl.

The other man is asleep again, breathing deeply and evenly as he curls in on himself, the hand holding Shane’s necklace clutched tightly to his chest. Rolling his eyes a little Shane figures he’ll get it back when Daryl is more awake and aware, and probably get to rib the other man about needing such security when he left for a minute.

“Told you I’d be back dumbass.” He whispers, making sure to keep his voice quieter as he takes his spot back besides Daryl on their makeshift bed. “You worry too much, I told you I wasn’t going to leave you behind and I meant it. I’ve gotten used to having you around and honestly, I like having to here.” Shane admits, moving to lie next to Daryl after replacing the cool, damp cloth on his forehead.

Daryl seems calmer now, better and he’s not quite so feverish anymore. There’s nothing more Shane can do and he figures that it’s safe enough that he could get another few hours of shut eye, Daryl’s shaking would wake him if he was needed. Looking over the other man he watches him breathe for a moment, just watching his chest rise and fall in time, bare beneath Shane’s open shirt except for a few scars.

Reaching out he trails his finger over one of the more recent ones, the thin line of scar tissue formed from the arrow through his side. It’s still tight and puckered flesh, red and white mixed against Daryl’s skin tone and it’s a contrast from the other scars there. The others are old and faded, burnt into Daryl’s flesh and seemingly just a natural part of him now. Shane doesn’t like that and he reaches out to tug his shirt closed a little, covering them up and making sure he wasn’t left with the temptation to explore where he had no right to.

“I reckon I’d be dead if it weren’t for you here, making me keep my head and my cool when I lost it.” He murmurs, watching Daryl sleep and finding himself uncaring if the other man could hear him or not. “I think I’d have forgotten how to be human if it weren’t for you Daryl and I need to remember some more, I need to focus on more than just survival.”

This world was screwed and he knew that, but focussing on survival had left him cold and someone he didn’t want to be. The kind of man he’d become was dangerous, someone he wouldn’t want around the group, let alone his unborn child. He needed to change and he needed to prove that to Lori when they found them, not for her or to win her back, but for himself. Fate had given him the time to figure that out and now he had the time to fix it all and someone alongside to kick his ass when he started acting like a jerk again.

“You’re a great distraction you know that?” Shane smirks, shifting a little closer to Daryl and flicking out the lantern to leave them in the dark. “I mean sure we’re not the best at conversation, but you’re a decent guy Daryl, you’re strong and smarter than I gave you credit for when I met you. I want to get to know you better, like fuck man I don’t even know your favourite colour or what you did before all of this. I want to know that stuff, and I want to learn about it without having to get you drunk first.”

Daryl huffs a little in his sleep, rolling closer and Shane finds the other man burying into his shoulder a little and he really doesn’t mind. He takes the small noise as one of agreement and nods to himself, throwing an arm behind his head and staring at the ceiling as he continues talking, finding himself musing on things he’d only ever kept to himself.

“This isn’t just about survival anymore you know? I mean we’re good at that, but this thing between us? It’s not just because of the situation here, it’s not because of a lack of choice you know? I mean at first it was something else, something more about putting you in your place I guess but now it’s…well I dunno.” Biting on his lower lip he realises he must look a damned fool right now trying to explain how he felt to an unconscious Daryl, but it’s helping, sort of. Even if he wasn’t any good at it. “Fuck I bet you’d be calling me a moron if you were awake.”

Sighing to himself he lets Daryl sleep beside him, his fever cooling down with every minute that slips by and leaving him relieved that he wasn’t going to be losing the other man. He hadn’t expected this at all, not when they’d first set out together from the woods. It had been so hard at first to do anything other that yell and curse at the other man but he liked to think they were growing as people. It would just take time, for both of them.

“Just want you to know I’m in this properly man. Whatever this is.” He gestures between them, shrugging a little since he can’t think of a word that fits their current relationship to each other. “You ain’t got to worry about me running after Lori when we find them again, I know she ain’t mine.” Like Daryl had said before. Only it felt like there was more too it now and maybe he didn’t want to go after Lori just because it wasn’t his place to pursue her.

This thing with Daryl was growing stronger and unlike before he wasn’t struggling through every moment to get to the orgasm at the end. He wanted every bit of it with Daryl and it was getting harder not to think of this as something more permanent; something with a future. “I’m good with this.” He nods to himself, glancing over to Daryl in the dim light and if he didn’t know any better he’d swear he could see his eyes open in the darkness and watching him as he talks. “I’m good with you is what I’m trying to say.”

Daryl doesn’t respond and he figures he must just be seeing things, it was probably the tiredness setting in after a stressful day. Shifting a little he leans in to press another kiss to Daryl’s chapped lips, smirking a little when there’s a telltale twitch beneath his own, a sign of someone trying to feign sleep and failing miserably.

“Plus you look sexy as hell wearing my shirt.” He whispers through the darkness, knowing he’s not imagining it when Daryl shifts a little closer to him.


	15. Chapter 15

It takes a few days for Daryl to feel more like himself again. Honestly he hates every hour that passes since really all he can do is rest and try to keep down some food, the concussion really kicked his ass and it had taken time to get back to normal. It’s on the third day that he wakes up of his own accord and actually feels well enough to stand up by himself.

Their makeshift bed isn’t the comfiest thing in the world but it’s been doing the job and when Daryl sits himself up he becomes aware of a small weight in his palm. Smirking a little he plays with the small 22 charm, letting the morning light catch on it as he strokes the pad of his thumb over it. This had become their way of leaving a note the past few days, whenever Shane would have to leave to take care of walkers or to take a piss or whatever, he’d leave his necklace with Daryl for safe keeping. It was foolish, maybe a little childish, but it helped to quell whatever worry started up in his chest at being left alone again.

Slipping the chain over his fingers he sets the necklace over his head, letting the charm fall to press over his chest as he stands up, actually feeling relatively back to normal today. Shane was probably out checking on the perimeter and Daryl knew that during the last few days the walkers have been steadily growing in number around them. It seemed they would swarm on anything that stayed in the same place for long enough, latching onto their scents and all heading in the direction of signs of life.

When it came down to it Daryl knew they needed to move on and now he was back on his feet without needing assistance and his head wasn’t aching anymore, they could finally do that. He felt guilty for making them wait so long but really Shane was right, he’d needed the break just to recover and things could have gotten worse if they’d kept moving. Yawning to himself he hunts around their supplies, finding a pack of chips and finding them to be a decent enough breakfast for the moment.

The past few days had been weird, getting used to this side of Shane he hadn’t really seen before. The other man was usually so charged by his emotions he made decisions quickly and reacted in a second, but lately he’d been a lot calmer. The whole time Daryl had been in and out of consciousness he knew Shane was there, giving him something to cling onto during times of panic and helping him through the discomfort of a fever and a concussion. There had been times when he’d been half awake and listening to Shane talk about everything a nothing, the other man’s voice becoming a soothing comfort to him and it wasn’t long until Shane was talking about them.

Honestly Daryl wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about all of it. Sure he didn’t exactly mind being in this situation with Shane at all, they were a good team together, that much was clear. Plus Shane hadn’t left him when he’d become a burden, he’d cared for him and spoken to him, he wanted to get to know him and see who he really was even if it was someone that he probably wasn’t going to like.

A part of Daryl is terrified at it all whilst the other side of him is exhilarated and wants to jump in with both feet. He’s never been good with people, not ever in his life has he been good with conversation and here he was trying to forge some kind of actually relationship in his own faltering way. It was easier when Shane took control and all he had to do was follow, but he didn’t want Shane thinking this was something he just did because it was easier. Because truthfully Shane wasn’t the only one that wouldn’t change his mind if given a choice.

He wants to be with Shane. Maybe not in the whole holding hands and saying sappy shit to each other, but he doesn’t want to go and screw around with anyone else and he doesn’t want Shane doing that either. Thing is he didn’t exactly know how to convey that to Shane, not when they really didn’t talk much about what was going on between them.

Running his fingers through his hair he feels the dressing over his head wound and tugs it off with a hiss when the adhesive catches in his hair. There was no need for it anymore, it would scar and he’d have another story behind yet another mark on his body to keep to himself. He had to admit that he was enjoying the way things were going between he and Shane right now, it seems they’d silently taking a step forward and now they kissed a heck of a lot more than before, and not only when they were going to start a fight or screw around together.

He guesses that things were going pretty damned good between them and now here he was sitting still in Shane’s shirt and twisting the necklace around his fingertips. Smiling to himself he feels ridiculous, like a fucking teenager with their first crush and unsure what to do with it all. He was a fucking pathetic piece of shit, but fuck he was beginning to enjoy this far more than he’d ever anticipated. It wasn’t just about the orgasms anymore, it was about everything else that came along with it, even if he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind more of those shared between them.

Going through their supplies he begins busying himself with packing away everything they’d been using, wanting to be useful and to be able to get moving as soon as Shane wanted to. He keeps recalling what had happened in the house before, exactly where Shane’s fingers had been and how good it had made him feel to be in that position. Daryl had never thought he’d enjoy that sort of shit before now, but he remembers that feeling and how intense it had all been with Shane whispering in his ear and easing him through it and fuck he wished he knew how the hell to ask for that again. It had been good, better than good and he wanted more of it. He wanted more of it with Shane.

Christ he was acting like a damned blushing virgin over this whole thing, but he really couldn’t think of a tactical way to ask Shane to fuck him in the ass.

Snatching up his cross bow he checks it over, making sure that a few days of not being used hasn’t knocked anything loose of left it stiff in the wrong areas. Everything looks all right and he’s glad it doesn’t look as if Shane has been playing around with it and trying to play hunter by himself. Checking through his arrows he gets everything set up to move on, making sure he’s got enough for hunting or for protection and that none were on the verge of snapping. Sometimes it’s easier to focus on the simple things when his mind was in utter chaos over something else.

“Well look who’s up by himself. Feeling better?”

Turning to face Shane Daryl can’t help the small smile that twitches at his lips. It’s the first time he’s felt completely better and the first time he feels that he’s really seen Shane in a few days. It really shouldn’t be as good as it feels to see him properly again. Giving a loose shrug he stands from where he’d been crouched, not even wobbling on his feet for a second as Shane steps over to him. “Well enough to get moving on, everything’s all packed and ready to go if you are.” He explains, knowing that Shane must be desperate to move on by now.

Hands reach up to cup his face, one thumb stroking over his cheek lightly just beneath his eye and fuck he knows he’s blushing a little at the simple contact. He can’t meet Shane’s eyes as the other man checks over his wound before feeling his forehead, as if he’d a child who needs their temperature taken. Daryl finds himself reaching out to Shane in return, not to steady himself but just for more contact, letting his fingers slide to the other man’s hips as they stand together. “I don’t know, maybe we should give it one more day just in case.”

Rolling his eyes doesn’t even give him a headache anymore and he tugs away from Shane’s grip to prove himself a little. “Hey, I’m fine we should get moving Shane, we can’t afford to waste anymore time.” He can see that Shane knows he’s fine, the other man is grinning and looking him over and maybe there’s a little twist in his stomach at that feeling. “Besides I know the walkers have been closing in.” And they can’t afford to draw in a herd down on them.

Shane rubs over his head, his hair is growing back and Daryl thinks he prefers this look to the close shave he’d had after the Otis incident. Daryl knows the move is Shane’s way of wanting to say something so he waits, aware the other man does the same for him when he’s chewing on his thumb and unsure of himself. “I can handle them man, if you need another day to just rest up.”

He scoffs and grabs a couple of bags, tossing them into Shane’s arms and smirking when the man gives an oomph at the sudden weight. “I’ve rested enough, we’ve got shit to do.” And he won’t hear anymore on the matter, not when they’ve taken so much time out for him to sleep away an injury. Grabbing up a couple of bags himself he leads the way to the car, carting everything back and forth with Shane until they’re ready to get on the move again.

They take a moment to double check over everything together and leaning back against the car Daryl finds himself glancing over the cabin one last time. It’s not much, just a place they’ve stopped on their journey and honestly he doesn’t remember much of the time here but it’s the kind of place he’d have liked back before everything. Quiet, out of the way and separate from everyone else.

“Hey man you ready to go?” Shane’s hand claps onto his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. Turning to Shane he gives a small nod, wondering if it would be as easy to live with the rest of the group as it is to live with Shane.

He’d already begun to change before they were separated from the group, he’d felt himself starting to actually give a shit about them all and he didn’t think of leaving every day to be on his own. Now with Shane it was getting more and more difficult to want to be alone anymore. People had started out something he needed to survive, but now he found himself wanting to be in a group, and especially wanting to be with Shane.

Being alone wasn’t an option anymore and it’s as they’re driving alone that he finds himself absent-mindedly chewing on his thumb of one hand whilst the other toys with the charm of the necklace he’s still wearing. It’s not until Shane scoffs at him and gives a small shake of his head until he realises what he’s doing and moves to slip the necklace off, leaning across the seats to ease it over Shane’s head and back into place around his neck. The necklace looks right there, where it’s meant to be against Shane’s broad chest and Daryl finds himself sitting a little closer, still toying with the charm whilst it’s around Shane’s neck instead. “Am I going to have to get you one of your own?”

“Maybe.” He smirks, watching the side of Shane’s face as he drives and focuses on the road. Really this would be the perfect time to do what he wanted since Shane was distracted but he doesn’t really know where to start with it all. So instead he slumps back in his seat and watches out the window as they drive back towards the direction of the Greene’s farm and the area that they were hoping the group was in.

“Well if we happen across one somewhere I’ll make sure to get you one.” Shane laughs but it’s not in mockery, it’s more teasing and Daryl finds himself completely relaxed in the other man’s presence now. He’d always been so unsure and tense before and though there were still moments he feared Shane leaving him behind, mostly he feels pretty damned comfortable with him. “Anything else I should keep an eye out for?”

“Peanut butter.” He’s immediately blurting out, not caring that Shane looks surprised he had an answer ready. It’s been the one thing he hasn’t seen, it seemed no one had grabbed a jar of it when they decided to flee for their lives. “I fucking love peanut butter and I haven’t seen a jar of it in months.” He huffs a little and doesn’t care that he looks like a sulking child, he’s feeling better and talking with Shane as they drove makes him feel more and more comfortable.

Shane nods, grinning to himself and Daryl wonders if he’s enjoying this as much and he is. “Alright, I’ll keep an eye out for peanut butter but you’ve got to find me some nutella. No cheap crap either, but actual branded nutella.”

They grin together, watching the world go by them out the windows as they talk about something so stupid. “I’ve only seen rabbits, squirrel and a few deer in these parts, but I’ll keep watch for any wild jars of nutella.” He promises and makes a mental note to make sure to find Shane a jar before too long. It was stupid, but sometimes it was the small things that got you through the tough shit nowadays.

Between them they continue talking about food they misses, mainly Shane talking about home cooked meals whilst Daryl mused on junk food and fast food. Between them they fish out a bag of candy and share it, feeling like greedy children feasting on the sugar until their fingers and lips were sticky with it. The drive is long but soon enough Daryl begins to recognise some of the places mentioned on signs and it seems Shane is peering at the map more often as they get nearer to their destination.

When they finally pull up in front of the building Daryl finds himself staring up at it almost in awe. The place is huge, three floors tall, grand and overbearing as it stood against the grey sky. The trees surrounding the driveway looked to have been well kept before the walkers got here and there’s only a few meandering corpses about to avoid. “What is this place?” He asks, grabbing their packs as they head inside, keeping close to Shane with his bow up as they scout the areas together.

There’s a few walkers, they take down seven between them in almost silence, Shane gesturing for Daryl to cover him a few times and hunting out the moans of the dead together. The building is far too big for them to even think of clearing it all properly, and honestly Daryl figures he’d probably get lost anyway if they tried. “Country club and guest rooms.” Shane murmurs, beckoning Daryl to follow him through the double doors and beyond. They bar them shut behind them, slipping a chain through the handles and furniture before them to block the exit as well as possible. “Me and Rick got called out here once when we were rookies, I figured they might show up since it’s big enough.”

Daryl doesn’t want to point out there there’s no sign of life in this place at all and that all he can smell is the decaying rot of walkers in the air. Instead he follows Shane through the area they’ve sectioned off, staying close to his back and locking down any hallways they decide not to venture down. The whole place feels like a fucking maze and a few times he has to hurry not to lose Shane for fear of being left behind in this hellhole.

It’s the kind of place he would never have even seen the outside of let alone the inside. The kind of people that came to these places were born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass and spat on people like him as if he were nothing more than a mutt in the street. The pictures on the wall look old and probably expensive, spattered in walker blood from where he takes one down and smears it over the painting purposefully. “Shane they ain’t here.” He mutters when he feels like they’ve looked enough. There’s nothing here worth taking and the others weren’t here so why were they moving deeper into the building? “Shane?”

The other man pauses in front of him, holding out a hand behind him and Daryl pauses there, bow at the ready for whatever it was Shane had noticed before him. Now he can hear it, the sound of walkers in the room ahead, and from the sounds of it there were more than just a couple. The gnashing of teeth and soft moans echo in his ears and he peers over Shane’s shoulder to get a glimpse through the glass panel of the doorway.

There’s at least fifty of them, too many for them to even think of taking on or getting past safely. All it took was one bite nowadays and that was it, there were no more chances. Nudging at Shane he shakes his head to him, getting his attention and retracing their steps back until they’re at a crossroads in the hallways. “Shane what are we looking for?” He asks, wondering exactly why they weren’t already in the car and on their way to the next place on their map to check.

Shane rubs his hand over his head again, looking put out and Daryl is starting to hate that look. Moving a little closer he places a hand on his arm, not pushing but just giving him the silent support he needs for the moment. The group isn’t here and it seems that Shane had been so sure of it that not finding them had put a damper on his spirit.

“We’ll find them.” He’s no good at this reassuring shit, but Shane gives a small half assed smile and looks at him for a second, so he figures he’s doing well enough. “We’ve got a whole list of places to check through, they’ll be somewhere and we’ll find them.” Because really they had to, if not only for Shane’s sake then because the world just couldn’t be that cruel to them.

“You’re right.” Shane sighs and moves closer to him, giving that small smile and before he knows it Daryl has his warm heat pressed against his side as Shane moves closer to him. “I know you’re right, we should get-“

A loud groan interrupts Shane, followed by a cacophony of moans and growls from around them. Some of the doors they’d barred begin to shake with walkers on the other side, and in the shadowed end of the hallways Daryl can see stumbling figures emerge to hunt them down. It seems there were more walkers in here then they’d anticipated and now they’d all decided it was hunting time.

There’s no hope of staying quiet when they were converging like this, they couldn’t just sneak their way out of this one, they had to fight. Firing a bolt Daryl takes out one easily, watching it stumble and fall, barely even making those behind it pause as they continues heading in their direction. Shane fires a few rounds and takes down more but it seems every time they manage to take down one a cluster come out of the surrounding area to take it’s place.

Backing down the hallway they’d come in from wasn’t giving them enough of a gap between themselves and the threat, the walkers continued bearing down on them until there’s no point even trying anymore. Shane doesn’t have to say a word, Daryl can feel when the choice is made and is running behind him, down hallways that are somewhat clear, jumping over corpses and furniture, weaving around blood pools and trying to find a safe way out. He can hear Shane breathing ahead of him as they search, each of them glancing down hallways for a clear one and trying any door to see if it was unlocked.

The building is swarmed with walkers, every single one of them seeming to have noticed their presence and teaming up on them in one go. Daryl can feel his heart beating heavy in his chest as they run, him trying to cock his bow and take down a couple when he can over his shoulder. He hears the thud of more bodies going down from his bolts and Shane’s bullets, the pair of them trying to make a dent in the numbers whilst trying to find a path out of here.

“Daryl!” Jerking his head away from another hallway he stumbles back as a walker gets too close for comfort, swinging at him with one arm and gnashing its mottled teeth at him in a growl. Grunting in effort he digs his blade into its skull and takes it down, yanking it free before backing up against Shane as the herd draws in. “Fuck man we’re running out of options here.” Shane tells him and Daryl tries to makes some sense of where they’d been running to in the first place.

They knew they were on the ground level and didn’t need to go up or down any stairs, but they needed to find the edge of the building, even a window would do so they could get to the car. Only right now the halls were swarming with walkers and he was having to press back against Shane to continue edging away from them. Stabbing another walker in the eye he feels Shane move beside him to do the same to another, taking the pair down before they both stumble back. He can feel Shane’s heavy breathing and the hallway they were in was turning out to be a dead end except for a couple of doors.

Shane darts ahead of him and tries one, yanking at the handle and Daryl almost cries in relief when the damned thing opens. He can barely get there before Shane’s arm is around his waist, grabbing him and dragging him inside before slamming the door shut behind them. They use both of their weight to press out the walkers, to keep them from getting in to the closet and managing to get the door in place before locking it. The herd on the other side are persistent, scratching and growling at the door and Daryl knows they don’t have the luxury of time.

“We need to get out of here.” Shane pants and Daryl would thank him for the obvious if he didn’t know that Shane needed to say things through when he was thinking. Instead he nods, still pressed into the other man’s side as they both scan to closet for any form of escape. “Fuck man there’s so many of them, there’s no way we can get past that.”

He agrees, he knows it’s either find another way out or give in to a slow and agonising death. Right now he refused to take the second option, not when they still had so much left to do and a group still to find. Taking a deep breath he shoulders his crossbow, ducking beneath shelves and peering into the shadowed corners to make sure he didn’t miss anything. It’s when he’s just about to give up that he spots it, the tiniest reflection on the metallic edges of a ventilation grate. “Shane, give me a boost.”

The clawing and moans outside of the door keep his mind focussed away from having Shane holding him around the middle, lifting him off the floor enough to use the butt of his bow to knock out the grate. It’s going to be a tight squeeze but it was better than trying to get past a hallway full of walkers and right now he’d take anything over that. Abandoning his pack Shane gives him a shove and he’s scrambling inside, tossing his bow ahead of himself before squirming as much as he can to see behind himself. There’s no way to turn in here and he only knows that Shane had managed to get in behind him from the swearing and curses coming from the other man. That and the fact that Shane shoves for him to get moving.

Daryl knows he’s not the biggest of men, heck when he was a kid he’d been downright scrawny and this is a squeeze even for him so he bets Shane is having a shit time trying to get through the vents as well. He wants to keep the noise down but every time he moves at all he hits an elbow or a knee on metal and he can feel the vibration through the entire fucking shaft. It’s a horrible feeling being so confined and if it weren’t for Shane’s constant litany of curses behind him Daryl might have given up and gone back just to get some air. Then a hand falls on the small of his back when he pauses and he finds the strength to continue.

When they reach the open area above a room Daryl finds himself breathing heavily even though the air is thick with dust. They’re both sweating but when Shane presses against his side and throws an arm around his shoulder he sinks into the touch instead. There are still walkers in the building but there were none up here and he could take that for the minute, it gave them time to find their footing and work out a plan.

Beneath them is a room, a dining room set out for a party that had long been postponed. The china was all laid out on the tables, the napkins neatly folded and the walkers milled around the place dodging in-between empty chairs. But beyond them all Daryl could see large floor to ceiling windows and the world outside beyond that. He doesn’t want to talk for fear of attracting more walkers, at the moment they could probably take on the twenty five or so in the room but they’d just have to make a break for it when they could. The crawlspace they were in didn’t reach to the windows, leaving them half of the room to run at minimum and circled by walkers.

Chewing on his thumbnail he tries to figure out how they were going to do this, not only manage to jump down without breaking a leg, but take down walkers and not attract any others that were doubtlessly in the halls surrounding this place. Twenty five walkers was a lot anyway, but more than that and they could easily become overwhelmed in a second. He’s about to ask Shane for his opinion when a hand enters his peripheral vision and a familiar reflection of light catches his eye.

“No.” He growls, keeping his voice low and shoving away Shane’s hand that holds out the necklace towards him.

“We can’t both go down there together, we’ll get swarmed.” Shane explains and he looks so determined, as if this is the plan and he’ll be damned if Daryl doesn’t listen to him. “I’ll go down the other end of the room and distract them so you can get out the window and bring the car around to come get me.” He continues and Daryl just shakes his head in response, fucking pissed that after everything Shane intended to fucking leave him to escape on his own?

“Said fucking no Shane.” Daryl hisses and tries to bat away the hand again, watching that damned necklace glint in the dim light as Shane makes a grab for him to hold him steady. When he speaks again there’s no denying that Shane means business and Daryl finds himself desperate to find another way to get out of this.

“Well I ain’t giving you a choice!” Shane hisses and before Daryl can protest again he’s being kissed hard, Shane’s fingers digging into his shoulders and holding him steady before pulling back to slip the necklace over his head. “Now you fucking get out there and get safe, told you before I ain’t leaving you.” Shane’s fingers tap over the necklace and before Daryl can protest he’s gone, scrambling away through the crawlspace and kicking out a ceiling tile to drop down to the floor below.

Leaving him to curse Shane Walsh and cling to the necklace tightly as he drops down to one of the tables before sprinting for the windows and safety.


	16. Chapter 16

As soon as he hits the tabletop he has the walkers’ attention and Shane is both grateful for that and terrified at the same time, keeping his shotgun close he takes out the two nearest to him, splitting their skulls in a second and covering up the sound of Daryl landing halfway across the room. He panics for a second, worried that the other man hadn’t listened to him and was trying to come up with some plan of his own instead of following instructions. Then there’s the sound of shattering glass and he catches a brief glimpse of someone getting to their feet outside and he gives a sigh of relief.

The walkers take the moment to dive at him, causing him to lash out and kick one away, blasting one in the chest and giving himself enough space to reload for a second. His fingers are shaking, despite all his training this is a real case of fighting for his life and he can’t stop his body’s reaction to the fear. Snarls surround him and he lashes out, smashing a skull with the butt of his gun as he cocks it ready, firing at a few more and noting that there are more walkers stumbling in from the halls.

He doesn’t have the time to take them all out if more were coming and besides there was no shame in running nowadays, not if he had to. Swinging his now empty shotgun onto his back he grabs his side arm in one hand and his knife in the other, lashing out to clear a path towards the window. More walkers go down, one grabbing at his shirt until he stabs it in the head, firing at another and gritting his teeth as brain matter spatters over the clean china laid out on the tabletops. The walkers growl and scrape their nails over the tabletop as he climbs onto one, using the extra height to kick at their faces and dart towards the window easier as they remained on the tiled floor, slipping on pools of blood as they stumbled for him.

The numbers are rising and by the time Shane has reached the smashed window they’re massing into a small herd behind him, all moving as one towards him and barely stopping as he vaults out of the window. Keeping his weapons raised he hits the grass, stumbling a little and almost running into a walker that had been drawn in from the noise. The herd in the room are clambering out after him, gnashing their teeth together and scraping in a pile past the glass left in the windows. He’s probably the only fresh food they’ve seen in months and they seem desperate to get to him.

Panting for breath he starts running for the front of the building and the car; and hopefully Daryl. Around him more walkers are appearing from the neatly trimmed hedges, peeking out from open doors and latching onto his scent as he runs past. The herd doubles in number, probably reaching near eighty or so as they continue stumbling after him, amassing in a mob of hunger and death, clawing for him and leaving him to stumble around the corner of the building and head for the car.

Which isn’t there.

Shane pauses for a moment, just a moment to curse and glance about, seeing nothing more than the herd catching up on him as he catches his breath. Daryl had left him, running off with the car and leaving him to continue running from his death. The walkers’ moans catch his attention and he’s running again, just heading away from the herd and hoping for a miracle to happen.

He’s been in this situation before, followed by walkers and trying to outrun them to survive, but before he’d had an option, now he was alone and feeling more desperate than ever. Daryl had left him. He’d taken his distraction and gone with the car full of supplies, abandoning him to be ripped apart and probably running off to try and find his brother. Just when Shane thought they were getting somewhere together, just when he really thought they could maybe have something. He’d tried to prove to Daryl that he wouldn’t leave him and now that bastard had done exactly that, running off with his necklace and after he’d saved his ass countless times.

In that moment Shane hates himself and he hates Daryl, he turns to fire back at the walkers and take out some anger on them when he hears the sound of the engine getting nearer.

The car skids around the corner of the building, driving up alongside the herd and Shane can see a few walkers go down as Daryl fires from behind the wheel. Then it picks up speed before ploughing into the mass of walkers, not slowing down for a second and taking out a good chunk of the numbers up the front. Shane pauses, panting for breath and almost laughing in both relief and shock as Daryl drives the car in a circle, drawing away most of the herd to the noise before driving over, pulling up beside him and hanging out the window when there’s not quite as much danger as before.

“What the fuck you said to bring the car back to you!” Daryl yells and Shane can see that despite it all the man is fucking pissed off at him right now.

“Well I wasn’t gonna stand around waiting for your slow ass!” He huffs, stomping around the car to the passenger side and firing off one more round into the walkers now heading their way again.

Daryl is glaring at him, breathing heavily through his nose with his bow in his lap and shaking his head. The anger is so obvious that Shane wonders if Daryl is more focused on their current situation or on letting it all out on him. “Hey I did exactly as you said and went and got the car, I go round the building to bring it back to you and this is that thanks I get for saving you?”

Rolling his eyes Shane can’t believe they’re having a domestic whilst walkers were stumbling up behind them, ready to try and break in the car and kill them both. “Just fucking drive asshole.” He ends up telling him, slumping in his seat as Daryl finally gets the car into gear and drives them away from the overrun country club and back to the road.

Shane is still trying to catch his breath, checking over his guns and ammo, cursing at the amount used and cleaning his knife free of walker brain when he notices it. Daryl is quiet as they drive, but he’s tense, sitting bolt upright and gripping the steering wheel with one hand whilst chewing on his thumb of the other. He looks lost, frantic still even though they’re safe now and Shane hates to see that look on his face. Sighing a little he sets his shotgun in the back, getting himself comfortable and trying to think of how exactly he was going to calm Daryl down when he was pissed at him.

He’s seen Daryl like this before, back at the quarry after Merle when he was a ball of emotions and letting it all out in anger, but usually they weren’t in a moving vehicle and he could distract Daryl one way or the other. “Look man I know you’re pissed about me leaving you-“

“Pissed? I’m fucking fuming!” Daryl cuts him off, removing his thumb from his mouth and slamming the heel of his palm into the steering wheel in anger. “You could have fucking died you idiot and for what? Because your stupid noble self wants to save my worthless ass first? It’s fucking stupid Shane, you could have died! You could have fucking died!” Daryl is yelling, uncaring of how loud he is as the speed down the road, driving to nowhere except away from here.

He tries to calm him, placing a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and finding himself shrugged off with a loud huff when he tries to placate him. “Daryl I’m fine.” Shane was ready for anger, he was ready for Daryl to punch him, but this was something different, Daryl was really worked up right now.

“It was fucking stupid, you fucking idiot. Why the fuck would you do that? You’ve got a family out there to find and you’re risking your life for me?” Daryl glares out the window shield, not looking at Shane deliberately but he’s still very active, biting on his thumb, wiping at the scruff on his chin and tugging on his hair. The man isn’t just angry, he’s agitated and on edge, as if he’s no longer in control of his emotions.

“Daryl calm down it’s alright.” He tries again, moving closer to the other man and he can see the way he’s trembling, the fingers around the steering wheel are trembling a little and Daryl looks completely lost.

“No it’s not alright, you were back there and being dumb and risking your life for me.” He yells and Shane can see when the anger slips into something more, and Daryl begins to stumble over his words. “You shouldn’t have done that you idiot. There was no need to do it we would have gotten out of there just fine together, what if you didn’t make it huh? What if you’d gotten bit?”

So that was it, this wasn’t about Shane abandoning Daryl in one sense, but about the fear of him leaving him in a more permanent manner. “But I didn’t, Daryl.” He tries to soothe but it seems Daryl is lost in his fears and spilling them all now.

“You could have been bit and died and then come back and I’d have still been here waiting for you and your dumb ass would stumble on out here and I’d have to be the one to put you down. You fucking dumbass why would you do that? Why would you do that to me?”

It hadn’t happened, he was here and safe without any bites or scratches and he was very much alive. Daryl was still worrying over him though, scared of being left alone and terrified of losing him in this world. He knew they’d gotten close and he’d made it clear over the past few days that Daryl wasn’t dying on his watch, but until now he honestly thought that maybe Daryl still harboured feelings of wanting to go off on his own. But now here he was, letting Shane know exactly how wrong he’d been. “Daryl stop the car.” Reaching out he sets a hand on Daryl’s arm and thankfully he stops the car so Shane can have his full attention.

They weren’t going to be writing poetry and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears anytime soon, but Shane knew this was more than just a quick thing between them. It had been growing over the past few days and he’d felt it, whatever it was growing in his chest and Daryl meant more to him now. He meant enough to him for Shane to want to risk his life for the other man to get out safely. He hadn’t thought twice before giving his necklace to Daryl, forcing the man to get out and get safe as soon as he could. It had been a natural instinct to want to save him and get him out of the situation.

Daryl is still breathing heavily, but Shane can tell it’s because of the build up of everything over the past few days and this had brought it all to a head. Shifting closer he tugs Daryl to face him, cupping his face and resting their foreheads together, getting in his space and making sure he had his full attention. “Listen to me. I’m fine, you’re fine and we’re both here and alive. Ain’t no one bit, and I ain’t gonna get bit and leave you. Hear me?” Against him he can feel that Daryl is still trembling so he presses their lips together, kissing him slowly and securely, letting Daryl feel how alive he is. “I ain’t gonna leave you alright?”

Against him Daryl doesn’t nod but he can feel when he relaxes just a little bit and the next kiss they share is just as desperate but not as forceful. Shane holds Daryl close, wrapping his arms about the other man and letting their tongues clash together. Daryl tastes of the candy from earlier and he smirks at that, moving a hand to run over Daryl’s neck and enjoying the small moan he gets in reply when he strokes over the sensitive skin.

“I’m not going anywhere Daryl, it’s you and me alright and ain’t nothing going to change that.” He reassures him again, resting their foreheads together and meeting Daryl’s eyes. The other man still looks sullen but there’s a flush over his cheeks that Shane knows only appears when they’re close like this and when Daryl feels overwhelmed in the good way. “Besides you’ve still got my necklace.”

He gets a shove and a small smirk for that, Daryl pushing him away and climbing back into the driver’s seat, getting the car going again to get them somewhere for the night. “Jackass.” Shane nods in agreement, running his tongue over his lips to catch some of that candy taste and taking back the necklace when it’s offered to him.

They drive for a few more hours, both of them much calmer than before and Shane makes sure to lean a little closer to Daryl or clap a hand to his shoulder if he looks to be thinking over what could have happened over what did happen. The other man had mentioned being alone before and Shane remembers how he’d looked when he’d begged him not to leave. Even if a fever had been wracking through Daryl’s body he can remember how desperate he’d looked and how he’d clung to him in fear of being abandoned. He’d never let that looks cross Daryl’s face again if he could help it.

Dinner turns out to be a can of peaches each and some more candy shared between them as they drive, trying to find somewhere to crash for the night. When the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon he gives a sigh, glaring out at the barren landscape and the lack of buildings around them. “Looks like we’re going to have to sleep in the car.” He points out, glancing behind him to their supplies and figuring they could find a way to make them enough space if they laid the seats down for the night.

“Going to be a tight fit.” Daryl pulls the car over into the woods, giving them some cover from prying eyes and keeping them in the shade where it was cooler.

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Shane smirks and doesn’t give Daryl time to complain when he gets out of the car to rearrange everything. It’s not like the car is stacked to the ceiling with stuff, they only took what they needed anyway, but there’s enough supplies that they have to shove bags into the footwells, throw a couple onto the dashboard to accommodate for the seats laying flat and they’d still have to sleep surrounded by supplies. Not that they mind, the pair of them have both had worse since this all began.

Shane finds it funny when they end up sleeping in the same sides they’d used in the bed before, Daryl kicking off his boots and huffing a little as they’re pressed closer together than before. There’s not exactly a lot of space but it was better than sleeping sitting up and getting a crick in the neck. There’s a minor squabble when Shane moves Daryl’s crossbow aside but he’s not having the damned thing jabbing him in the side all night when Daryl starts squirming in his sleep. Eventually they find some kind of comfortable position and Shane isn’t surprised when Daryl ends up curled into his side and toying with the charm of his necklace that hangs out from his shirt.

Despite the noise of the outside world around them he finds himself falling asleep easily, with Daryl beside him in the dark of the night and safe from harm. So when he finds himself stirring and it’s clearly still night he grunts a little in confusion, wondering exactly what had disturbed him. He finds Daryl twitching at his side, muttering to himself and for a moment he fears that he’s fevered again but he doesn’t feel warm to the touch and before long he figures that the other man is having a nightmare. Carefully he shakes Daryl, trying to urge him to wake up but not wanting to startle him when they shared such a small space and the other man was known to lash out if caught off guard.

He’s not wrong and when Daryl blinks awake he has to catch the wrist of the arm that goes to hit him, hushing Daryl loudly and trying to get his eyes to focus. “Hey man it’s okay, it’s just a dream, ain’t nothing more than that.” Shane has to confirm, moving into Daryl’s line of sight and even though it’s still dark around them he can almost see the look of confusion there. “Just a dream.” Moving closer he leans in enough to press a kiss to Daryl’s lips, expecting a gentle response and getting something else.

In a moment Daryl is fully awake and climbing on top of him, still crashing their lips together and moaning insistently. There’s not a lot of room in the car and Shane has to assist in the squirming a little and shift enough to help Daryl get on top, but they manage and Shane isn’t exactly going to start questioning the move. Instead he moves his hands to Daryl’s back, stroking over him through the ever present shirt and moaning into his mouth, wondering exactly what brought this on.

Teeth nip at his lower lip but when he parts them slightly for Daryl he gets a huff in reply and more biting kisses. It’s sudden and confusing but he’s enjoying every second of being this close to Daryl’s heat and feeling every squirm of the other man on top of him. Another bite at his lower lip followed by a huff from Daryl riles him up a little, making him wonder why Daryl can’t just ask for what he wants when its clear that Shane can’t read his mind. Moving a hand up he grabs at Daryl’s hair, holding him in place before pressing his tongue inside the other’s mouth, getting a sigh and a moan for the action and smirking a little at the response.

He remembers in the forest before they’d been separated from the group and he can recall his desperation that day to have someone wanting him, and how he’d pushed Daryl for more and more response. Maybe this was Daryl’s attempt at the same thing and he finds himself wanting to tease out the answers. Moving from Daryl’s lips he begins kissing down his neck, tracing over the now faded bruises gently before biting on them, letting his teeth dig into the soft flesh and feeling the way Daryl grinds down on top of him with a loud moan. “You like that?” He growls, breathing heavy and enjoying the cloying heat in the small space the car provided. Having Daryl this close was always wonderful, but right now he couldn’t pull away too far and that made it a lot more intense.

“Yes.” Daryl hisses, arching into his tough as his own fingers trail over Shane’s chest, down to the buttons of his shirt to fumble with them unsteadily. Shane pulls back to watch him in the darkness, noting the flush on his cheeks, the roughness to his voice and how every time he shifted a little on top of him Daryl would moan at the feeling of his erection beneath him.

Grinding up a little Shane moves his hands to Daryl’s sides, holding him in place as the other man strips him of his shirt, running fingernails down his chest and getting him groaning for more. “You want more?” He asks, taking his time to reach up for his shirt that Daryl was still wearing, bringing the other man closer to kiss him once more. They’re not careful by any means and their teeth clash on more than one occasion but he loves the harshness of it all and how despite everything they’ve been through Daryl wasn’t going to give up on this battle.

With a careful slowness he begins unbuttoning the shirt, keeping it in place around Daryl and covering his back, but open enough for him to run a hand down the man’s chest. It gets Daryl catching on a breath, shivering on top of him and nodding in the darkness. “Fuck yes.” He replies in a breathy tone and Shane thinks it’s possibly the sexiest thing he’s ever heard.

“Tell me what you want.” Shane orders him and swears he can feel the way Daryl shivers when he uses that voice, as if the man needed him to take control and lead all of this. It’s strange how for a man so brash and full of himself, Daryl got lost easily and needed to be led. “You know you have to ask for it.” He coaxes, moving to mouth over Daryl’s neck again, trailing his tongue over his pulse point and able to feel the moan that draws out before he hears it. Moving a hand down he cups at Daryl’s crotch, rubbing over him a little and enjoying the tiny whine that gets in response.

Daryl may be on top of him but right now Shane knew he was the one in control and he loved that, sometimes it felt like he needed it as much as Daryl and it just worked between them. Lips crash against his again and shaking hands fumble at his belt buckle, Daryl frantic in his movements and allowing him to control the kiss without hesitation. Moaning into it he lets Daryl yank down his zipper before he moves, slipping both hands around Daryl’s back before rolling them, grunting a little at the lack of space as he gets Daryl beneath him instead. He doesn’t give Daryl time to think, latching onto his neck again and moving to work over the other man’s belt, yanking it open in a move well rehearsed by now and working down his pants until he could stroke him through his underwear.

“Come on.” Shane purrs, licking at the underside of Daryl’s chin before nipping again, glancing down to the other man and able to feel the heat in his cheeks when he moves to kiss him again. “Tell me how much you want this, tell me how bad you want me Daryl.” He struggles out of his own pants, shoving them to the side after grabbing what he needs from the pocket and then letting him shirt join the pile of clothing.

“I want you.” Daryl’s voice quivers above him in the night air, warm and close inside the confines of the car and Shane moves to kiss down his chest, stroking his tongue over heated flesh and nipping over skin to make him sound that way again. “Fuck Shane I need you.” Taking a moment to peek up at Daryl Shane can see the way he squirms over what he’s said, but he doesn’t give him a moment to think about taking it back.

“I need you too.” He groans, moving up to press against him, grinding their still covered cocks together through their underwear and make Daryl moan beneath him. “Fuck I need you too Daryl.” And though it’s said in the middle of being overwhelmed by lust, he knows it’s more than just that. They both know it but they both don’t say it properly. He’s not going anywhere and neither is Daryl, they’re in this together and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Thrusting against Daryl he moans at the feeling, enjoying when Daryl wraps his arms about his neck to bring him down to another kiss, grinding their cocks together and pressing their tongues against each other’s.

Continuing the kiss Shane lets his hands move down Daryl’s body, taking the time to stroke over his ribs, to catch on his hips for a brief second before slipping down the waistband of his underwear. They’ve never been completely undressed in front of each other, or as undressed as Daryl will let himself get, but he doesn’t want to hesitate too long and begin over thinking this. Yanking down Daryl’s underwear means they have to pause for a second to get them completely free of his legs, each of them shifting in the small space to work on Shane’s and toss the clothing to the pile beside them before pressing in close again. Daryl practically grabs for him to get back over the top of him, running his fingers through Shane’s slowly growing hair and pulling him back in for a kiss as Shane’s hand circles their cocks together.

He takes his time dragging his hand over them, stroking down their heated flesh and making Daryl arch up beneath him until the other man is panting, taking in deep breaths and moaning in time with him at each movement. Shane lets his hips grinds against him as well, moving in time with his own fist and creating a wonderful friction between them, one that has the pair of them breathing heavily into each other’s mouth’s between each kiss and Daryl begging him soon enough.

“Shane please.” Daryl moans, digging his nails into Shane’s shoulders and clinging there, shuddering as if he’s the only thing keeping him grounded to this earth. “I want you…I want you to…” Daryl cuts himself off, biting down on his lower lip and Shane is there kissing him again, stopping him from hushing himself and stroking them harder, wanting to coax the words from his mouth.

Biting at Daryl’s neck again he can almost taste the bruises forming there, with Daryl’s shirt sticking to the sweat at the back of his neck and making him wish he could rip the damned clothing off. Instead he focuses on nipping and tasting him, moving a thumb to rub over Daryl’s nipple and feel the way it makes his hips buck at the unknown feeling. “Tell me.” He growls, rubbing over him and pinching a little in a tease, wanting this as badly as Daryl does. “Tell me what you want.” Beneath him Daryl shudders again with a small mewl, and though they’re still surrounded by the darkness of the night Shane swears he can feel the way Daryl tries to close himself off from him.

He doesn’t want that, he never wants Daryl trying to hide away from him and he moves to kiss him hard, darting his tongue inside his mouth before moving his hand away from Daryl’s nipple and down between his legs. “I want you to…” Pressing his finger against Daryl’s hole he doesn’t try to press in, but just strokes over it, teasing and wanting as much as the man beneath him but wanting to hear those words. Daryl hisses, buck up against him and practically whimpers into the warm air around them as he finally gives in. “Fuck me, please Shane I want you to fuck me.”

Moaning at the words Shane takes a moment to rub over Daryl’s cock again, to kiss him again and press their bodies together, and to just feel the heat and want of the man beneath him. They’re both here together and alive, each of them very much wanting and needing the other in the most base of ways as well as the more complex. Kneeling between Daryl’s legs he grabs at the lube he’s kept with him, running a palm over Daryl’s chest and hips every so often to keep him steady as he coats his fingers.

“Yeah you want me huh? Fuck I want you too, I’ve been thinking of doing this for so long Daryl.” He admits, slicking up his fingers before setting aside the lube, knowing he’d be needing more in a moment. “Every time you crouch in front of me or walk away I can’t take my eyes off you. Wanted to fuck you for a long time Daryl, needed you so bad.” Leaning back over Daryl he kisses him hard, giving the other man a distraction as he begins working in a finger, keeping himself aware of Daryl’s reactions and working with them. “Fuck you’re so hot you know that?” He continues, wanting to be the distraction Daryl needs to focus on as his body adjusts.

Beneath him Daryl groans, arching up a little and biting on his lip. Shane can feel his body tightening around him a little and he gives him a few moments before moving his finger to find that spot, grinning in excitement when Daryl gasps beneath him. “Do that again.” Daryl growls, his fingers dig into Shane’s shoulders and fuck he can only obey, rubbing over his prostate and enjoying the way Daryl’s body reacts accordingly. “Fuck that’s so good.”

Shane hums in agreement, his own dick leaking at the view. Carefully he slips in a second finger, making sure to pay plenty of attention to that spot inside of Daryl and getting him moaning and writhing beneath him before scissoring them gently. It’s going to hurt and be uncomfortable, there was no way around that, but it would be good too, he’d make sure it was for Daryl. “Love the noises you make Daryl, love having you around my fingers and begging for more.” He admits, moving to lick over Daryl’s pulse point in his neck before biting down, sucking on the skin to leave a heavy bruise.

The mark is clear even in the darkness, a harsh mark against pale skin and Shane admires it, loving that he gets to mark this man beneath him for all the world to see. When he enters another finger he can feel the way Daryl tenses, his body trying to adjust to the strange feeling as well as it can but unsure. He hushes him a little, moving his free hand to rub over his cock and making sure to run a pad over his prostate again. In no time Daryl is panting as he stretches him, mewling and bucking into his fist, leaking over his fingers and making him almost burn in want.

Moving back onto his knees he grabs the bottle of lube, using liberal amounts as he coats his cock and spreading even more around Daryl’s entrance, smirking at the small gasp at the coldness. He notes that Daryl has lifted himself onto his elbows, watching him carefully and clearly on edge about what’s about to happen. Shane takes the time to shift above him, kissing him slowly and carefully, just letting his hands run over Daryl’s hips and hold him close for a moment. “I want you.” He murmurs to him, dragging out the kiss for a while before resting their foreheads together briefly. “You ready?”

Daryl is flushed beneath him, his entire body warm and trembling a little in a mix of nerves and excitement. Shane makes sure to wait for the nod, moving to kiss Daryl again in distraction as he guides himself into place, easing himself inside slowly and keeping a note of Daryl’s reactions. There’s a small grunt of discomfort and Daryl squirms for a moment, not to get off of him but just in place, as if figuring out exactly how this was going to feel before settling for it to continue. Shane bites his lip to focus on going slow for the moment, trying to ignore the tightness around his dick and how fucking perfect it felt to be inside Daryl like this. Panting a little he stays pressed against him, moving to cup at Daryl’s neck and kiss him lightly as he finally manages to press all the way in.

“Fuck that’s so good.” He mutters, feeling every shudder of Daryl’ body and running his hands over his sides lightly. Daryl is breathing heavily beneath him, clearly trying to get used to the new feeling and not wanting to voice it. “Relax.” Shane moves to mouth over his neck again, letting his fingers go back to Daryl’s nipple to distract him. “I’m going to make you feel so good in a minute Daryl, when you’re ready I’m going to fuck you so good, get you moaning beneath me and begging for more.” He teases, letting his tongue reach out to lick at the shell of Daryl’s ear and enjoying the small moan he gets at the action.

Daryl’s fingers are latched into his shoulders, digging in enough to leave marks but Shane doesn’t mind, it’s a good indication of how Daryl’s feeling if he won’t talk. He remains still for a while, just mouthing over Daryl’s flesh and muttering to him, telling him how good it was going to feel and how amazing he was. It takes a while but Daryl’s fingers uncurl a little and Shane can feel the way he shifts a little beneath him, a small twitch of his body as he presses back onto him.

It causes Shane to gasp at the feeling and he closes his eyes for a brief moment, resting against Daryl before letting his hips twitch slightly, the smallest thrust forward and enjoying when Daryl moans beneath him. “That good huh?” He asks and he can feel when Daryl nods against his shoulder, burying his face there as Shane continues with a slow pace. It takes time to build up to a steady pace, Shane pauses every time Daryl lets out a sound that isn’t pleasure and makes sure to repeat a motion when he gets a moan. Soon enough they have a good rhythm going and Shane is enjoying every single second of it.

Each time he presses in he loses himself in the tightness around his cock, holding onto Daryl tightly and moaning at the feeling. When he changes his angle slightly he gets a wonderful gasp out of Daryl and he can feel the way the man’s dick twitches between them. “Fuck.” Daryl mutters beneath him, his fingers still digging into Shane’s shoulders but there’s no pain now, only an intense pleasure washing over the pair of them.

It’s close inside the car, they’re both sweating in the warm air, breathing erratically and Shane knows the windows are going to be fogged up from this. But right now he can’t look up, he’s far too focussed on the sight of Daryl arching up beneath him, moaning loudly and hanging onto him with every thrust. Shifting to brace himself beneath Daryl’s head he glances down between them, groaning at the sight of himself slipping inside the tight entrance and enjoying the way Daryl shudders when he presses over his prostate. Every small quiver of Daryl’s body is felt through him, making him grunt in pleasure and press in further, wanting to make them both feel good.

Every thrust is perfection, making him moan as he moves to kiss Daryl hard, unable to keep up the gentle pace any longer. Daryl doesn’t protest at all, in fact he gasps louder as he’s fucked harder, pressing back into every thrust of Shane’s hips and panting deeply. When he’s biting on his lip and bucking into every movement Shane knows just how good it must feel and groans before slipping a hand around Daryl’s cock. “Want you to come Daryl.” Shane groans, pressing against the other man’s body, fucking him deeply and feeling each twitch of Daryl’s cock against him as he strokes him in time with each thrust of his hips. When he tries to kiss Daryl he finds the other man can’t reciprocate, instead he’s biting on his lip, panting heavily through his nose and clinging to Shane, moaning in the back of his throat and Shane can feel he’s close. “Come for me.” He purrs, rubbing himself over Daryl’s prostate and fucking him deep, rubbing at his cock and moaning at the perfection of it all.

It’s enough and with a strangled groan in the back of his throat Daryl comes between them, his body tensing all over and clamping down enough to make Shane grunt in pleasure. Giving a few harsh thrusts he can feel himself building up to orgasm and presses closer, burying himself deep inside Daryl as he finally comes, groaning and shuddering through the aftershocks that follow.

Both of them are breathing heavily and Shane finds himself slumped on top of Daryl, moaning as their bodies twitch and spasm, riding out each second of pleasure together. Lazily he moves to kiss Daryl, his tongue barely able to coordinate itself he’s so lost in a haze of perfection. Daryl sighs into the kiss, his fingers no longer dug into Shane’s shoulders but instead he has his arms slung about Shane’s neck, holding him there loosely. Pulling back from the kiss Shane is careful when he lets himself slip free from Daryl, moving to grab his discarded shirt to clean the pair of them off gently.

Tossing it aside he can feel Daryl watching him and he has to give a smirk at the sight. Daryl is panting heavily, naked aside from the open shirt and looking thoroughly fucked. It’s moments like this he wished he had a camera. Moving closer he’s far too hot to press against the other man again so instead he lets a hand lay on Daryl’s hip as he takes up his place beside him. “Fuck that was good.” He concludes, feeling Daryl chuckle a little beside him with a nod. They’re both in that warm frame of mind after orgasm where it’s hard to be uncomfortable, instead he feels like everything is right with the world, even if it’s only he and Daryl left in it. “Next time you have a nightmare promise you’ll wake me like that again?”

Daryl hits at his side a little before slumping there and even if they’re both still sweating and hot, Shane lets him rest his head on his chest to play with that damned necklace again. It’s a while before Daryl speaks, long enough for them to feel the chill that’s gotten caught back in the air and tug the blanket over them both. “Almost lost you today.” Daryl mumbles, twisting the charm back and forth in his fingers and deliberately not looking up to meet Shane’s eye.  

So that’s what had brought it all on? The fear of losing him? Smiling to himself Shane presses a light kiss to Daryl’s hair, running his fingers through the back of it down to where the collar of his shirt still rests, crumpled and smelling of sex. “Told you before Daryl, I ain’t leaving you.” He tells him honestly, wrapping an arm about the other man and not minding that they were stuck in a car in the middle of nowhere at the end of the world. There’s so many things he could say to reassure Daryl, he could make promises and swear to be there forever, but they’re not teenagers and they both know the reality of the world nowadays. “Not if I can help it.” He says instead and it’s the closest to a promise he can make right now.

“Not leaving you either.” Daryl shrugs, as if this whole thing was no big deal and no reason to get emotional over. But Shane can feel the way he curls closer and see it means just as much to Daryl as it does to him. It’s not a promise of forever, but it doesn’t have to be, because a promise for right now was good enough for the both of them.


	17. Chapter 17

It’s been seven months since they’d left the farm and it was still just the two of them.

Not that Daryl minded that fact at all, but it had been a long time and each day that passed meant the hope for ever finding the group again faded a little inside of them. It was their primary focus still, if only because it gave them something to head towards and the map they still carried with them was covered in scribbled crosses when they’d found no sign of the group in each spot. The first few months it had been easy to shrug off, they were covering a wide area and between any diversions they’d had to take because of the walkers and not knowing the group’s position, it was easy to accept that it would take a while to find them.

Then the months dragged on and it got a little harder to stay positive. They didn’t reassure each other with promises of hope and finding them again, instead they’d cross out the place on the map and begin heading to the next one. Daryl kept looking for any signs of any other human traffic anywhere, but whenever he did find enough to track it usually ended up ending at a mauled corpse of some stranger.

They’d lost the car after a few months in, the lack of any fuel meaning they’d had to take what they could carry and leave it behind, leaving them on foot and taking more time to get to each destination. Daryl knew it made it easier for them to get further away from the group and even if they did find a trail then they’d be slower to find them at the end of it, but what choice did they have? Besides the walkers seemed to like the main roads anyway.

He was used to moving through the woods anyway and despite Shane’s bitching for the first few weeks he knows the other man has gotten used to it now as well. They made a good team together in more than one way. Their shotgun ammo was saved for emergencies and they depended on the crossbow and their knives for the most part, taking down the odd walker they came across and learning how to work as a team. It worked for them and really it hadn’t taken too long before they had a system, using Shane’s training and Daryl’s hunting knowledge to learn each other better and move as a team.

Between them they could take down a score or walkers if they had to, though if they ever came across a group that large they tried to single them out if they could, draw them away and spread out the bodies to not get blindsided. It had happened once before, in the middle of a rainstorm they’d gotten caught up in a small herd, unable to hear them over the pounding of the rain and the crash of thunder. Back to back they’d fought together, taking down as many as they could, slipping in the mud and panting for breath. Daryl remembers pressing back against Shane and stabbing a walker in the face, feeling its body slump to the ground before hearing Shane yell.

The cold that had crept over him had been like nothing he’d ever felt before and the rage and anger had bubbled over until every last walker was down in the mud and rotting for good. Daryl doesn’t remember taking them down or how long it took, but he remembers grabbing Shane and frantically checking for bite marks in the pouring rain, almost collapsing in relief when he found none at all. The walker had merely caught him off guard and fuck he remembers shoving Shane to the floor and climbing on top of him until he was certain the other man was alive and well.

Their something had evolved into a bigger something. Neither of them referred to it as a relationship, but in reality Daryl knew it couldn’t really be called anything else. They weren’t fuck buddies, there was something more than that behind it, but he couldn’t quite find it within himself to refer to Shane as his boyfriend. They were just together and that was fine by him. More than fine actually.

Sure they had their fights over their time together, heck he’d damn near strangled Shane when the other man wouldn’t stop calling him ‘wifey’ and kept asking shit he didn’t want to talk about. There had been a point he was sure Shane was going to fucking knock him out when he wouldn’t wait for the other man and insisted on going ahead alone. So yeah things weren’t perfect and there had been a few black eyes and actual physical fights between them, but it got fixed and there wasn’t any grudges held afterwards.

That’s something that took a while for him to get used to but he’d had a good few months for it to sink in that Shane wasn’t going anywhere without him. It was a nice thing to remember in the middle of the night when nightmares kept him from sleeping and walkers were growling at the door of their hideout for the night. Beside him Shane would still be there, fast asleep but still pressed against him, that damned necklace around his neck and smelling a mix of them both that only came from sharing close quarters for so long.

He’s changed over the past few months, but he’s glad to know it’s for the better. Daryl knows he’s not so quick to react with violence anymore, unless the situation called for it of course. It took him a while to open up, but he’s shared more about himself with Shane than he ever has with anyone else, and though it may have taken a while and him stumbling to initiate another game of ‘never have I ever’ to make it easier, he knew they were closer for it. He knew about Shane, Shane knew about him and maybe he liked that they had gotten to the point where they could communicate with nothing more than a shared look and a nod nowadays.

Now here they were, trudging through the undergrowth of the forest and looking for somewhere to crash for the night, the pair of them holding their weapons ready but comfortable in each other’s presence. Daryl can’t quite admit it out loud, but he really does enjoy the feeling of comfort he gets from being around Shane. There’s no more awkwardness and though he’ll admit sometimes he still gets a little lost when they’re fucking, Shane doesn’t seem to mind taking control and he really doesn’t protest against giving it to him.

They share the silence between them, the only sound the crunch of their boots through the fallen leaves and the occasional skitter of a bird through the trees or small game across the ground. It’s comfortable, it’s almost peaceful and Daryl almost lets himself relax as they walk together.

“We should go on vacation.” Shane nods beside him, seeming confident in his decision despite the fact that Daryl is fairly sure he’s just choked on nothing but air at the statement.

Catching his breath he gives himself a moment to check he’s heard right and when he finds Shane grinning at him he figures he did. “What?” He asks, hitching his backpack higher and unable to help but return the smile with a small one of his own.

“Well not now obviously, but after all of this.” Shane shrugs, gesturing around them at the empty woodland.

Daryl takes a moment to watch the other man, enjoying the way his hair had grown back in, how his clothing was smeared in enough dirt to show they were living rough and how he could see the glint of the silver chain on his neck. “You been finding and eating ‘shrooms without letting me check again?” He asks, grinning when Shane shoves at him a little.

“No, I’m serious.” And there’s that nod again. That damned so sure of himself nod that has Daryl agreeing to follow wherever Shane will lead him without question. It’s strange, he’s never really trusted someone so fully before but with Shane it was different and he didn’t quite know how to explain why. “We should go on vacation.” Shane says again and this time Daryl gives in to the choice and nods in return.

“Okay, where?”

“Have you ever seen the ocean before?”

Smirking a little he shakes his head, fully aware that Shane knows this fact just as well as he does. “Never have I ever.” He almost sing songs in reply, remembering one of their games and how flabbergasted Shane had been over learning such a thing.

“Then we’ll go.” And then Shane is grinning to him again, slinging an arm around his shoulders, jostling him enough to make them weave over the ground and causing Daryl to press further into his side. “It’ll be awesome. We’ll drink rum from coconuts, walk through the waves and fuck in the sea.” Shane grins, grabbing him enough to get them to stop their trek so he can press a kiss to Daryl’s lips.

It’s enough to shut him up for a moment, letting himself give in for just a second and enjoy the feeling of Shane pressed against him. Pushing back with a snort he nods for them to keep moving, but he makes sure to keep the pace at Shane’s side. “Seriously I’ve told you before you need to check with me before eating any ‘shrooms. You’re off your face.”

“Nah I’m not. I’m just making plans is all. It makes it easier if you’ve got something to look forward to.”

Daryl can understand that. He sees the way Shane looks at their crumpled map with a look of utter dejection some days and that occasionally it’ll take more effort to get the man moving. It’s been seven months, he might have a baby out there somewhere in the world, or if not then he’d have one soon. Daryl hates those moments, when he thinks of how hard it must be for Shane to continue going, to push forward through everything that says to give up and keep walking with him through the dirt roads hoping for a stroke of luck.

He hates seeing him like that, and even if he’s not the best with people he’s getting pretty good with Shane and he likes to think he helps in his own way. Before this can turn into a pity party he nudges the other man’s shoulder, pressing into his side briefly as they walk, getting his attention once again. “And I’m included in your plans?” He smirks; watching as Shane is back in the here and now and grinning at him like a loon.

“Course you are, unless you’re planning on going somewhere?”

Shaking his head he can’t help but smile, Shane was infectious when it came to things like this. Right now with the way the world was, it helped. A lot. “No, except for the beach apparently.” He shrugs, kicking aside a few leaves and crouching to inspect some rabbit tracks.

Automatically Shane crouches beside him, following his lead and checking the area for any danger, but relaxing when he sees the tracks. They haven’t had any meat in a while, sticking to their found supplies since game has been hard to find, but tracks were a promising sign of things going their way today. Running his fingers over the ground he nods in the direction of the elusive rabbit and checks his bow is loaded before leading the way.

Over the past few months he’s been teaching Shane how to hunt, or at least trying to. It had been a mixed bag of success and failure, from Shane somehow managing to bag a fawn, to him swearing for a good half an hour after getting his foot lodged in a rabbit hole. Daryl saw it as an ongoing lesson, but when they were hard up for prey he always took the lead with Shane trailing behind him obediently.

Keeping low he knows Shane has got his back, keeping an eye out for walkers as he keeps an eye out for their dinner, both of them focussed on their individual tasks without even having to say a word. It’s easy like this, when he can give everything he’s got to following the trail the rabbit has left them and not have to worry about a walker biting his ass. Shane makes sure to keep a distance between them, letting Daryl get the lay of the ground without having to try and make up on stealth what Shane ruined with his heavy footfalls.

Before long he’s spotted it, a lone buck feeding at the base of a tree and completely unaware of their presence. Holding a hand up for Shane to freeze he brings up his bow, taking aim and nailing the rabbit in the neck. It gives a squeak but then nothing more, limp on the ground and though it may not be much, it was something and he’d take it for now.

Stepping forward he grabs the thing up, yanking free the bolt and gripping it between his teeth as he ties the rabbit to his belt, letting the corpse hang there for the time being. Humming to himself he reloads his bow, taking his time as he hears the tell tale crunch of leaves behind him.

Spinning on his heel he points the bow at Shane’s face, finger nowhere near the trigger and a smirk on his face. “Told you before, you’re too loud.”

Shane huffs and Daryl lowers his bow, shaking his head a little when Shane gives a loud sigh to the sky. “I am not, you’re just too good at hearing. Fuck man I was really trying that time too.” Shane even looks a little put out, but Daryl’s not falling for it.

“You gotta start trying harder, my hearing ain’t got shit on the prey out there.” Gesturing to the woods around them he shoulders his bow again, letting it thud against his back in a reassuring weight as they continue walking, with Shane still making too much noise beside him.

“You know I agreed to learn this hunting stuff because I thought the whole teacher/student thing would be hot right?”

“Then stop being such a shit student and learn something. Maybe you’ll get a gold star.”

Shane makes a small noise of interest beside him and Daryl knows that look in his eye and what it means when the other man runs his tongue over his lips. “See now that’s the kind of encouragement I need.”

He’s still not so good at the whole sexy talk thing, and when Shane moves from his side to slip behind him, grabbing at his hips and stopping him from moving it’s difficult to give in so easily. “Bullshit, you know you prefer it when I hunt anyway.” Daryl huffs, unsure what to do with his hands and ending up folding them over his chest.

“What can I say?” Shane is used to him and doesn’t even pause in his teasing, moving to slip the crossbow around to Daryl’s front and tugging on the straps of his rucksack. “I like seeing you so focussed and determined, getting all stealthy and looking like a man on a mission.” Daryl’s breath catches in his throat as Shane presses closer to his back, his hands moving to run over Daryl’s sides, up to help start to tug off the bow and the bag. They fall to the floor beside them, joining Shane’s bag and shotgun on the ground and letting Daryl feel the other man flush against his back. “Maybe I like having you hunt for me because it’s hot to see you crouch down so much, bent over on the forest floor looking for tracks.”

“Shane…” When a hand moves around to cup at his crotch Daryl knows he’s as good as gone, Shane knows how to work him and get him to ignore the stupidity of losing focus out in the open. There’s a firm rub against his cock through his clothing and Daryl can’t help the small moan that escapes his lips.

A mouth latches onto the back of his neck, sucking on his skin, making him arch back and he cant resist when Shane walks them forward until he’s pressed up against a tree. “A mighty hunter all of my very own.” Shane growls into his ear and fuck Daryl doesn’t care how bad an idea it is, he wants Shane and he wants him right now.

Scrabbling at his belt he doesn’t care how desperate it is to shove his pants down in a second, to arch back against Shane and groan loudly in want. “Fuck I want you.”

“Caught myself a real hunter haven’t I?” Shane chuckles, shoving down his own pants behind him and fuck Daryl can feel that Shane is as hard as he is right now. “So fucking tough but you still want it so bad, bet you’re still ready for me from this morning huh?”

Biting on his lower lip Daryl can’t help the blush that runs over his cheeks, it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Shane talking like that it just always makes him feel so flustered. He feels like a shy little virgin every single time and fuck that shouldn’t be so exciting to think of Shane walking him through it all every single time. “Yeah, yeah I am.” He admits, bracing himself against the tree and peeking over his shoulder to watch as Shane slicked himself up.

“You just want to take me deep don’t you huh Daryl?” Shane bites at the back of his neck again, teasing him, making him moan and arch for more. It should feel pathetic to be able to be worked up so easily, but fuck it just feels so good instead. “My perfect little hunter all ready for me.” Shane moans to him again, pressing up against his back, holding onto his hips and grinding over him enough to make Daryl snap.

“Shane hurry up and fuck me already.” He snarls, shoving back impatiently uncaring of looking like a needy bitch and just desperate for more. There’s a small chuckle behind him but Shane doesn’t disappoint and Daryl finds himself gasping in pleasure as he’s finally filled completely. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore; there are merely a few moments of discomfort before he’s pushing back with a moan, enjoying the feel of Shane’s fingers digging into his hips.

“Yeah you like that don’t you?” Shane pants to him, nuzzling at the back of his neck, kissing over his flushed skin and Daryl can feel that he’s not the only one desperate for this right now. Over the months they’ve found a rhythm in each other and before long they’ve fallen back into it, Daryl pushing back as Shane thrusts forward. “Fuck Daryl you feel so good.”

He knows he can’t moan so loud out here, not when they didn’t know if there were any walkers around, so he ends up burying his face in his arm, smothering his gasps and moans as much as he can. Shane moves faster and he doesn’t care that this can’t be drawn out longer, right now he just needs this buzz and he needs Shane and he needs it all now. Shoving back he knows Shane understands him without him needing to say a word and within moments Shane is stroking his cock in time with each thrust. It’s perfection and everything he wants.

Shane moans behind him, pressing in deeper, flush against his back and holding him up as they fuck. Smothering himself further he moves his free arm to grab at the one Shane’s wrapped about his waist, holding onto him tighter as he finally comes hard. He can feel Shane follow not long after, groaning deeply before burying himself in Daryl’s shoulder, panting hard as they try to catch their breath.

For just a moment everything is perfect and he can slump a little back against Shane’s reassuring weight and ignore the rest of the world.

Then the spell is broken and it’s time to remember where they are. Shane pulls back enough to kiss beneath his ear, his hands running down Daryl’s stomach before he pulls away enough to let them clean up. There’s no time to enjoy the afterglow anymore and within moments of shrugging up their pants both of them are alert and checking the surroundings for walkers.

Daryl’s still sweating when Shane wraps his arms back around him, holding him from behind and kissing back over his neck. “Worth the risk.” Shane mutters to him, his arms around Daryl’s body and keeping him close, both of them grounded in each other for the moment.

It’s enough for him. He doesn’t need anything more than this. The past few months have been difficult he’s not going to lie about that, but being with Shane and having someone else to rely on had made it bearable. He ain’t never really had anyone he could rely on before and he was starting to get used to the feeling. Leaning back on Shane he takes a minute to just feel him up against him, knowing his warmth, finding the familiar hold more than just comforting. Now matter what happens he knows he just doesn’t want this to end.

Shane pulls back with a final kiss behind his ear and a squeeze around his body, and then they’re back on track, shrugging back on their supplies and moving through the woods again. The quiet between them is comfortable and Daryl enjoys it, walking closer to Shane and letting their shoulders brush every so often. It’s a closeness he’s never had before, one he doesn’t want to give up and he’ll be damned if he was going to lose it when they finally caught up with the group. They’ve talked about it before and Shane had managed to put his worries to rest somewhat, but he knows how the two of them compare.

No one was going to be thinking they were missing out on him, but Shane was something else. The man was smart, funny, with a caring side he showed with pride and a fire within him when it came to his emotions. Daryl found himself liking every little bit of him more and more each day, especially when it all came in a Shane shaped package. He was nothing compared to that and even if Shane kept repeating how he wasn’t going anywhere, there was always a tiny trickle of fear within him that he’d bolt as soon as they were back with the group.

But then Shane was making plans with him, acting as if they had a future together in this fucked up world and holding him close during the night even when it was too hot to need to share body heat. The man listened to him when he was teaching him how to hunt, he watched his back when he was occupied, and fuck that’s more than he could ever ask for. It’s still difficult for him to initiate anything between them, it’s like there’s a wall within him that was hard to get around, but he likes to think he’s been getting better at it.

Grabbing Shane’s wrists he stops them for a moment, taking the time to press their lips together in a slow and lazy kiss, drawing it out for a moment and just enjoying the feel of Shane being entirely his. They remain pressed together for a minute, their foreheads resting against each other’s as Daryl traces the path of the silver chain over Shane’s collar bone, feeling the way the other man chuckles against him. “I mean it.” Shane mutters to him and Daryl looks to him questioningly. “You’re worth the risk.”

He hates that the words make him flush easily, unused to hearing any kind of praise at all and he fucking hates that Shane seems to know that. It means the man takes every opportunity to make him blush like a fucking girl. “Dumbass.” He snorts, pulling back with a laugh and finding that Shane won’t let him. Instead the other man grabs him and brings him back in for a kiss and moaning against his lips.

Around them the world shuts up and Daryl rolls his eyes when Shane moves to begin kissing at his neck again, nipping over his pulse point and trailing his tongue over his skin. They don’t have the time for a second round like a couple of teenagers. Shane disagrees and refuses to be pushed away, moving back up to kiss his lips and Daryl gives in with a sigh, kissing back before pulling away when he hears it.

There’s a buzzing in the air causing the birds to take flight, some of them making alert calls around them and instantly he’s alert, Shane tensing beside him as they both scan the area for what’s causing it. As it draws nearer he swears he can smell smoke in the air, the burning of something close by and he almost double takes when the noise moves overhead and the see what it is.

A fucking chopper.

He doesn’t know if it’s the same one from before in the woods at the farm, and quite honestly he doesn’t care. The thing is smoking, great plumes of thick black smoke careening from its side and he can hear the sound of alarms echoing off the thing. Shane draws closer to his side as they watch it, unable to do anything as it drops lower in the air, moving far past them and he can feel the moment it ploughs into the ground.

The smoke still marks the air, tainting it black and burning his nostrils as he turns to Shane, not even having to say a word to know they agree. They begin heading in the direction of the crash together.

It takes a while to get there and the smoke has cleared, leaving nothing but the scent of destruction as they move closer. He can see the wreckage but this is the first time since the petrol incident that they’ve seen any other sign of life and they were both wary. Keeping low with his bow ready he’s glad Shane seems to remember to keep quiet, pressing against his side as they keep low in the bushes as they peer at the wreckage.

The crash has killed a few, and those that were alive, well he wasn’t so sure they would be for long. Shane nudges him and he knows the cop wants to go and help, to see if there was anything they could do for the injured survivors. Honestly he’s not so sure it’s a good idea, they had limited first aid supplies and besides, they were probably going to die anyway. He’s about to shake his head in reply when he hears the sound of vehicles pulling up and immediately he’s pressed against the floor with Shane, the two of them using the bushes for cover as more people pull up.

A hand presses gently down on the top of his back, between his shoulders blades not to keep him down, but he figures Shane just needs the reassurance that Daryl won’t be moving without his knowledge anytime soon. He appreciates it, because even if his attention is focussed on watching the men climb out of the vehicles to inspect the crash, he also keeps a note of Shane’s breathing and the reassuring warmth of his weight against his side.

The men move about in formation and he can tell they’ve been trained, or at least worked together for a while. One walks with a definite confidence, strutting about the crash site and inspecting each body there. He’d put money on him being the one in control of this group. When he draws a gun Daryl can feel the way Shane tenses beside him and he instinctively presses further down into the ground. The shot isn’t unexpected but he finds himself wondering why the hell the guy was wasting bullets on already dead men.

Then he moves on, checking the pulses of others, calling out for assistance for one of the men and moving on to shoot another that Daryl knows for a fact was still alive even if his leg was uttered destroyed. It makes him glance to Shane and in the look they share he knows they don’t intend to make their presence known to this group that seemed to be straight up murderers.

The group scan the site, grabbing any military equipment they can and loading up the cars, and Daryl finds himself almost sighing with relief when they begin to look like they’re going to leave. Shane’s fingers curl into his shirt at his back, holding him steady even though Daryl is more than happy to wait until these strangers have fucked off and left them alone. They were outmanned and outgunned, never a good combination.

He’s feels Shane sigh in relief when the leader climbs back into one of the cars, ready for them to leave quietly and unseen when he hears it. A slight snap of a twig behind them and he’s tense, knowing Shane can feel it when he readies his finger on the trigger of his bow. Shane’s already got his sidearm out and he knows the man is ready as well, a slight nod being their only communication before they roll onto their backs, pointing their weapons at whoever was trying to sneak up on them and preparing to fire if they had to.

“Hey now that’s no way to greet your long lost brother Darylina. Point that thing away from me and why don’t you come and give ol’ Merle a hug?”


	18. Chapter 18

For the first few days Woodbury is a God send. Shane can barely get over the sudden change from their life on the road to being somewhere secure and safe. It takes some encouragement for him to relax into it, between the suddenness of it all and the promise of comfort he feels totally lost and he can pretty much see that Daryl is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Neither of them can believe it, the place is almost untouched by walkers, as if they’d just carried on living whilst the world around them went to shit. It’s a haven stuck in the middle of chaos and heck it takes them both a while to get used to that fact.

The hot water helps, Shane probably spends a good long while in the shower just remembering what it felt like to be properly clean again. They’re taken care of pretty well, Daryl being Merle’s brother seems to have gotten them some kind of standing and they find themselves actually able to relax whilst other people prepared them food, cleaned their clothes and got them somewhere to sleep set up. It’s like a dream for a while and hell Shane doesn’t even mind that Merle keeps them company the first night as they drink and enjoy the feeling of safety for the first time in a long time.

They get the tour, the introductions and the sugar coated perfection of it all is waved in their faces. Shane has to admit that from his first perspective it all seems damned good, and standing above it all is a man who calls himself the Governor. Shane can’t help but snort on a laugh the first time he hears that and beside him he can feel Daryl do the same even as Merle elbows for them to shut up. He behaves as well as he can after that, nodding and smiling, taking note of the severe divide that cracks down the middle of the people here.

There’s two kinds in Woodbury and he can see them plain as day. The soldier and the civilian. The Governor rules both sides equally but in very different manners. The soldiers are reprimanded and controlled with a stern voice and orders, whereas the civilians are coaxed into following blindly like sheep, nodding along to kind words and false promises that slip from the Governor’s lips. They all bow to this one man and look to him for answers, sure it seems to be working but there’s something about him that makes Shane wonder.

He knows it’s not his place to question, not when these people had been nice enough to take them in, but he can’t trust them, not yet, not when his and Daryl’s weapons were still out of their hands. They’d been taken when they arrived, blindfolded and grumbling in the back of a truck with their shoulders pressed to each other’s for a sense of being grounded. Now the two of them were without their weapons, and after so long being dependant on them Shane found it akin to being stripped naked and left exposed against the world. The two of them weren’t strong or expected to defend themselves in here, they were instead dependant on others to do that for them and he knew that grated on Daryl as much as it did himself.

Even explaining that he’d been a cop before and Merle mentioning that his brother could be trusted didn’t get their weapons back and the Governor had a way of denying their requests that almost made him feel guilty for asking. After months of being with only Daryl he was used to trusting only one other person other than himself, so suddenly being asked to hand out his trust to these strangers was more than just jarring. It was irritating as hell and made him feel on edge more and more everyday he wasn’t allowed his weapons back.

It was uncomfortable for him and as the time passed the feeling of Woodbury not being quite right grew inside of him. Shane tries to swallow it back and keep it inside of him, because who was he to question a place he’d just found out about? But it’s just far too perfect and candy coated for him to relax completely. The Governor was hiding something and he notices that he and Daryl are kept away from every run and trip they go on, they don’t get to inspect the items they come back and he knows in this world there was no way anyone could just find a whole cash of weapons lying around. Something stank in Woodbury and he wanted to find out what it was.

Each day he does his part, mucking in with the chores, sitting on watch even if he wasn’t allowed to actually fire a weapon and he talks around, trying to find out more. Milton is eager to please, showing him most of the town but it’s easy to see the other man has places he knows to keep away from Shane and he takes a note of that. Michonne is different, she’s cold, quiet and he finds out that she’s not an original Woodbury member. She’d been found a few weeks before them, injured and taken in, but her weapons had been confiscated too. He felt like the bad kid at school, finding someone else in his situation and sharing his woes. It wasn’t his fault he felt like this, or that he was frustrated but finding a kindred spirit made things a little better.

The thing is, he was used to having someone to talk to and to discuss his thoughts with, but that was his biggest issue with Woodbury; the lack of Daryl.

Of course he can’t blame Daryl for wanting to spend time with Merle. It was his brother for God’s sake and before Woodbury they hadn’t even known if he was alive or dead. Shane was not the kind of man to deny Daryl the time with his brother, not when he could see how much it meant to Daryl, but the thing was he wasn’t so good with the whole sharing thing. He knew it was something he had to work on, hell he needed to make sure he could let Rick have Lori before he found them again, but with Daryl there was a part of him that didn’t want to let go so easily.

He’s fine with Daryl sharing quarters with Merle and leaving him to have his own room. That’s fine, it made sense that the brothers would want to stay so close and he doesn’t mind the privacy that a room of his own gives him after so many months sharing every inch of space with Daryl. The thing is it feels as if Daryl has gotten so wrapped up in Merle that he’s forgotten about him.

It’s pathetic but maybe he’ll admit to being jealous.

After so many months of being stuck with Daryl twenty four seven he’d have thought he’d appreciate the break a bit more, but instead he’s just craving him more a more. Every time he goes to spend time with the man it seems as if Merle is there, or Daryl just has to go and do something and even when he does get some time alone with Daryl he can see that the man is on edge with him.

It’s a really strange thing to see, because he was so used to having Daryl be comfortable around him that suddenly having him drawing back was almost impossible to comprehend. He’s managed to catch him today, just for the two of them to take a walk around the perimeter of the town and get some time alone, but it’s awkward and he can almost feel how uncomfortable Daryl feels. Pausing he nudges at Daryl’s side, running his tongue over his lips as he looks him over, noting the way Daryl keeps glancing around them as if worried. “What the hell is up with you man?”

“What?” And Daryl has the gall to try and look innocent, as if he has no idea what Shane’s one about. “Nothing, just…it’s weird you know after it being you and me for so long.”

Rolling his eyes a little Shane can’t believe that Daryl is trying to pass this off as a sudden shyness. Okay sure, maybe he doesn’t want them to be common knowledge but he knew Daryl was far better at keeping hidden than he was trying at lately. “Yeah you and me, let’s talk about that for a second.” He pushes, folding his arms and noting the way Daryl’s eye flit about desperately, either looking for a way out or searching for danger.

“Shane-“

“I’ve barely fucking seen you since we got here, what the hell is up with you?” He cuts him off, all the frustration of everything building up into a ball of anger. The mix of unease over their new sanctuary and the change of their surroundings mixed with the lack of Daryl was getting to him and now was the time he was demanding answers.

“Look it’s just what with Merle-“

Shane can’t help but stop him there, holding out and hand and trying to see it from Daryl’s point of view, but it doesn’t stop the frustration. “I get that he’s your brother and he’s alive and it’s great that you guys found each other through all the shit. It really is and I am so happy for you Daryl, really. But he ain’t gonna disappear again, you’ve got him back now for good. You don’t have to be around him all the time, I mean shit Daryl, I’ve barely fucking seen you at all since we got here.” He points out, hissing the words between his teeth and shifting closer, ducking his head to rest their foreheads together and hating that Daryl pulls back from him. If nothing else that was always something they shared and it hurts to be refused it.

“Shane, it’s complicated.” Daryl mutters, wrapping his arms about himself and chewing on his thumbnail. Shane knows that move, he knows that’s Daryl’s tell of how he’s feeling but it’s been so long since Daryl’s been like that around him that it’s hard to do more than continue to vent.

“Is it?” He scoffs, kicking at the ground, letting his hands fall to his hips and practically glaring at the other man. “Tell me what’s changed since we stepped in through that gate, tell me how in the fuck things between us suddenly got so complicated that you can barely even fucking look at me anymore.” Because he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s barely had enough time with Daryl to piss him off and here they were as distant as they had been before the herd had happened.

Daryl shakes his head, watching him and looking unsure but not angry. “You don’t get it Shane. Things are different in here than out there.” He huffs, rubbing over his mouth in a habit of nerves and glancing back around the sun bathed street around them. “There’s people here and Merle’s here and it can’t be like it was out there in here.” Daryl explains and Shane rolls his eyes at that.

“It’s not like I think we should fuck right out in the open Daryl.” He hisses through grit teeth, annoyed, lost in himself and letting the tension of the too good to be true Woodbury get to him all at once. “But you keep running away from me, as if it meant nothing to you. Is that what it is?”

Now Daryl looks pissed at him and in a way it’s easier to deal with an angry Daryl than a quiet one. So he doesn’t step back when Daryl pushes at his chest, almost fucking snarling as he gets in his face, all piss and vinegar and some actual life in him that Shane hasn’t seen since they got here. “Hey fuck you. You don’t get to say that shit, not after everything that happened out there. You fucking know it ain’t that, so don’t even fucking say it.” Daryl growls and as if Shane’s removed the barrier it all comes pouring out of the other man. “I can’t be like that around Merle dumbass, you saw what he was like around camp before, with T-dog and Glenn, what do you think he’d be like to me if he knew what we were doing? He’d beat my ass, call me a faggot and shit he might even kick me out of his life for good, that ain’t even hitting on what he’d do to you for being the one with me.”

“You think I’m scared of your brother?” Shane finds himself asking, hating that Daryl feels like this and there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop it. “I don’t want to stop being with you because he’s a homophobic sack of shit.”

“He’d fucking kill you Shane, no joke.” Daryl continues, running his fingers through his hair and pacing a little looking as distressed as Shane has seen him in a while and he takes the chance to grab Daryl’s wrist, yanking him inside of the nearest building to have some real privacy. “He really would, you think I want that?”

Pausing for a moment Shane watches Daryl, notes the way his shoulders are tense and that he looks like a man hoping for an answer to their problems. Shane finds himself hating Woodbury more and more as he shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair before stepping closer to Daryl again, this time relived when the other man doesn’t pull back. “It’s just fucking hard to be without you.” He murmurs and Daryl leans forward this time to press them together, sliding their lips over one another’s in a way that makes Shane sigh a little into the kiss.

He’s missed this, just the closeness of another body, someone he could trust to the end and he knew had his back. Leaning closer he continues the kiss, wrapping his arms about Daryl’s back to keep him there, pressing their bodies together and deepening the kiss. “It’s hard for me too.” Daryl mumbles when they pull back, breathing in each other’s scents and remembering the closeness they’ve both been missing. “But I’m not risking you.”

Making a noise of understanding he nods, pulling back a little to look over Daryl. He looks better for being here, well fed and clean, but without the crossbow at his back he still looks underdressed. Sometimes he wishes they’d never been found at all. “You know if you ever need a break from your brother my room is available.”

Daryl snorts out a small huff of a laugh and Shane enjoys the sound, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips and running a palm down Daryl’s chest. It’s only been a few days, maybe a week, but he’s craving him so badly, wanting to press against his skin again and taste him all over. Tugging down the collar of Daryl’s shirt he trails his tongue over his neck, nipping at the skin there, enjoying the way Daryl moans and arches against him, wanting and already getting flustered by such a simple move. “Shane we can’t.” Daryl mumbles and with a deep sigh Shane drags himself back, hating the paleness of Daryl’s neck and the lack of bruises he could leave there.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” He growls, pressing a final kiss to Daryl’s lips before moving back, smoothing down his shirt before they leave the building, trying to look as if he could cope with this place. Woodbury was losing its appeal to him and right now he was wondering just how much longer he’d have to deal with it.

Things carry on in the same vein for the next few days and each time he has to pull himself away from Daryl he finds himself hating it more and more. The only time they really get together is when Merle is off on a run for the Governor and even then they have to make sure that they’ve done their chores and managed to slip away unnoticed. Shane may have a room to himself, but the building was occupied with plenty of other people needing shelter and they had to be careful.

It makes him feel like a teenager again, sneaking behind the backs of the adults to get his end away and though it should be exciting he finds it more painful than he expected. Daryl isn’t exactly pleased with their new way of living either and he can see the loathing in Daryl’s eyes when the convoy of trucks return from a run and he has to remove himself from Shane’s lap. Wrapping his arms about the warm body tighter Shane shakes his head, running hands over Daryl’s shirt and tugging him back down for a kiss.

“Stay this time.” He murmurs, bucking up his hips a little, the pair of them not fully sated from the quickies they’ve been managing to sneak in. It’s just not enough and Shane wants more. He wants more than one whole night of Daryl, he wants a lifetime of him and living like this meant that was never going to happen. “Just this once. Screw Merle, screw everyone else. We’ll keep the door locked and just enjoy each other.”

For a moment Daryl looks like he wants to give in, but then there’s the resigned look in his eye and Shane knows that no amount of begging was going to get him to stay no matter how much Daryl wanted to. “You’re being a dumbass again.” He growls, climbing off of Shane’s lap to yank on his pants, not looking over his shoulder to meet Shane’s eyes. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

He knows it isn’t and right now he hates that fact more than anything. “We should run away then. Leave Woodbury and head out just the two of us again.” Getting up from the bed he steps up behind Daryl, slipping his fingers to catch on his belt loops and tug him backwards a little, just to feel him against him again.

“Where would we go Shane? The fucking beach?”

“If you wanted?”

Daryl sighs, jerking his belt closed tightly and almost catching Shane’s fingers where they still hung before turning to face him. “Shane, we’ve got it good here. We’ve got food, water, shelter, there ain’t no walkers and there’s people here.” He explains but Shane can see the longing in his eyes and how he’s clearly not entirely happy here. Same as himself. “What else do you want?”

“You.”

“You got me already.” Daryl mumbles, stepping into his boots before heading to the window, peering out to the trucks pulled up below in the street. Shane follows, slipping a shirt over his shoulders but not closing it yet, joining him in looking over the street of their new home. He can see Merle jump down from a truck with a grin, heading over to the Governor and the two of them having an intense discussion.

Taking advantage of Merle’s distraction he slips his hands to Daryl’s hips again, letting his mouth move to graze over the back of his neck, nudging between strands over his hair to press an open mouthed kiss there. “Not properly. Not the way I had you before.” He mutters and he can feel the way Daryl shivers at his touch. “You can’t say you don’t want it too, I see the way you act when we’re on watch, reaching for your bow that’s not there, the way you itch to climb down and take down a walker. We’re not made for the civilian life you and me.” He explains and when Daryl turns to face him again he notes the way he’s chewing on his lower lip. Moving forward he catches the same lip between his own teeth, nipping gently before kissing him hard. “We need more than this.”

Daryl doesn’t respond, instead he pulls back, trails a finger over Shane’s necklace and moves away, leaving Shane at the window and glaring down at the people gathered below as he leaves. It burns to be stuck here in a place he should want and yet craving more, wanting something else he couldn’t have right now. Sighing to himself he buttons his shirt, following Daryl’s footsteps to head to the street, ready to help out with the latest haul.

“Hey, you need to come with me.” Comes from the other end of the hall and Shane’s surprised to find Michonne beckoning him closer. She looks on edge and he wonders what’s gotten her looking like that but as usual the woman isn’t very forthcoming. Leaving Daryl to go and play happy families he follows her, noting that they keep to the shadows and slip into one of the barely used buildings quietly.

“Michonne what are we doing?”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t think the Governor is a saint other than me. You need to see what they brought back from their latest run.”

Glancing back to where the majority of the Woodbury residents were gathered on the street he wonders why they weren’t joining them and why Michonne was being so careful in her steps. Following he uses all the training from Daryl to keep himself silent, sticking to the shadows as she does and wondering if he’d ever get a straight answer from her. “You been sneaking around back here?”

“Keep it down, we’re almost there.” Michonne hisses to him, her shoulders are tense but she nods for him to follow her, climbing up some bookshelves until the two of them are peering through a vent. The darkness is so dense it takes a while for his eyes to adjust, but when he can finally make out the figure strapped to a chair he has to cover his mouth to keep from calling out.

Glenn was alive and captured by the Governor.

He wants to ask Michonne what the hell was going on and how in the hell she found this place, but instead he finds her nodding for him to follow and he has to drag his eyes away from his friend to keep up with her. Just the next room over is another figure sitting in a chair with the Governor standing beside her. She looks determined, strong and ready to do what she needed to, and in an instant he knows it’s Maggie. The Governor does not look like the man he’s met on the streets of Woodbury, in fact he looks completely different, but the voice is the same. He’s sweet, coaxing Maggie to listen to him and his empty promises, trying to get information from her and he’s sure she’s never going to break for this man.

It makes him want to go down there and tear the man a new one. He knew there was something wrong with this place and now all the reasons he’d had for staying suddenly don’t seem to be enough. Leaning back from the vent he glances to Michonne in the darkness and he can see her watching him back, calm but steady despite the manipulation going on below them. “How did you know?” He asks.

“You told me about your group before. Not a lot of people left in the world, it’s easier to identify people nowadays. Figured an Asian kid with a pretty girl might be someone you knew. I can see I was right.”

“We have to get them out of there.”

“If we do then there’s no way we could stay.”

“I have no intention of staying in this place any longer than I have to.” He growls and in a second he knows this would be his last night inside of Woodbury.

They make a plan, to use the cover of tonight’s fight in the arena and make their way out the back. Everyone would be far too distracted to take notice of them missing and besides they had no intention of causing a scene or starting a fight. The only thing was they needed their weapons and Michonne had no intention of leaving without her katana and Shane knew Daryl would want his crossbow more than anything. He agrees to infiltrating the Governor’s office before they left but he knew they’d have to be quick. Glenn and Maggie were clearly going to be injured after their interrogation so they’d need to be left until last to get, but then they’d need to be out and far away before anyone came to check on them.

Michonne agrees and the two of them head their separate ways to pack their bags, shoving the bundles into the abandoned building at the edge of Woodbury to grab on their way out. Shane checks on the sun, noting that the fight would be starting soon enough and if he wanted to time this perfectly then he’d have to hurry the hell up.

Running up the stairs to Daryl and Merle’s shared accommodation he doesn’t bother knocking, instead bursting through the door and ready to help Daryl begin grabbing his things. Daryl is on his feet in a second, panic clear on his face as Shane slams the door shut behind him and stomps over to grab his shoulders. “We’ve got to leave, now.”

There’s a pause for a moment, Daryl just studying his face and Shane can see the utter confusion in his eyes at the lack of explanation. But Daryl doesn’t yell, Daryl doesn’t pull back from him and god he’d forgotten what it felt like to feel so connected to someone. “What?” Daryl murmurs, watching him closely and Shane takes a breath before trying to explain, moving around the room to snatch up Daryl’s clothes and begin shoving them in the bags they both kept ready just in case.

“The Governor, he’s got Maggie and Glenn prisoner, we have to get them out of here and help them escape.” He nods, zipping up each part before tossing the bag into Daryl’s arms, moving over when he catches it and not liking the way Daryl looks at him.

“Shane you’re talking crazy, thought we talked about the ‘shrooms?”

Frustrated and worried about his up and coming plan he grabs at the back of Daryl’s neck, dragging him close enough to press them together and he can feel the way his partner grabs at his shoulders for balance, letting the bag slip to the ground before them. “Daryl listen to me.” He doesn’t want to yell but he doesn’t have a lot of time and he can’t lose Daryl right now. “I saw them okay? He’s holding them down in the basement of the abandoned buildings, I saw them with my own eyes. He was threatening Maggie and Glenn was tied to a chair. They’re here Daryl and if no one else knew then do you think he’s going to let them go alive?”

Daryl shakes his head but still looks confused, leaning down to snatch up the bag and watching as he fidgets with the straps between his fingers. “I don’t understand, why would he do that?”

Shrugging he checks over the room once more, not seeing anything else worth taking and knowing he didn’t have a lot of time before Michonne would be waiting for him. “I don’t know, and to be honest Daryl I don’t care, but we need to get going you hear? Maggie and Glenn need our help, we’re not going to leave them to be tortured by that crazy asshole are we?”

“No…no of course not but Shane-“

“We’re leaving tonight okay?” He cuts him off, not having time to explain any further and just needing Daryl to do as he asks, just this once when they were in danger. “Listen I’ve got it all covered you just need to get your shit and meet me in the building on the end of the street okay? We’re getting out of this place, I knew there was something fucked up here and now we know the Governor is a sick bastard we’re not staying here a second longer.”

“But Shane-“

“Daryl, you need to trust me, I don’t have time to waste, just meet me there.” Pressing their lips together he can feel Daryl’s fingers latch onto his shirt for the briefest second before he’s pulling away, darting from the room and back down to the main street. He’s breathing heavily, glancing around the picture perfect street and hating the knowledge he now has of the filth that lurks within. He knew it was too good to be true and now here he was, fully aware of the reasons he’d been feeling so unsure.

The street is clearing, the crowd of Woodbury residents moving as one to the arena and he wanders along the edge of the group to get to his destination. It’s eerily quiet as he tries to slip away from the group, everyone is so caught up in the upcoming entertainment that they’re focussed on a single point, he really thinks this could be easier than he suspected if it carried on like this.

Of course, lady luck never favoured him and of all the people he runs into, it’s Merle. “Hey there Officer! You not coming down to the festivities tonight?” Merle grins to him, cocky as ever and Shane notes that he’s wiping a smear of blood from his prosthetic.

Trying to hide the revulsion he feels over whose blood it is Merle is wiping off he nods, pointing in the direction of the crowd even though his feet don’t move in the direction. “I’m just on my way there now Merle. Thought you were fighting tonight?” And would be distracted from whatever he’d had planned.

Merle grins but there’s something in his eyes that Shane is not pleased to see, a hint of anger and he remembers exactly how volatile the other man had been back at the quarry. A part of him had blamed it on the drugs, but now he wasn’t so sure. Cricking his neck Merle moves closer, getting in his personal space and Shane has to lean back as time slips away from him. “Oh I am, but first I think you and me need to have a little talk about you fucking my little brother.”

For a second Shane freezes on the spot, he wants to deny it, to protect Daryl from what he’d been worried about before and keep it their little secret. But he can feel the time slipping by him, he knows Michonne would already be waiting to get into the Governor’s offices and he doesn’t have time to deal with Merle Dixon right now. He can see the anger in Merle’s eyes and he knows he needs to get this over and done with and get rid of Merle as soon as possible. Maggie and Glenn were depending on them and their lives were more important than Daryl’s worried.

He can see that Merle wouldn’t take a denial anyway, the man has a sneer on his face that was cold as ice and Shane is prepared for the storm that’s coming when he leans closer, hissing between his teeth and watching Merle’s reaction. “What I do or do not do with Daryl is none of your business.”

“He’s my brother, and I ain’t gonna have you-“

“Have me what Merle?” He snaps, barging forward, shoving at the man in the chest but keeping his voice low as he causes a scene, wanting to catch the crowd’s attention. “Have me tell you how I’ve been fucking your baby brother for months now? How about I tell you how much he loves it huh? And that he makes the sweetest little noises when he’s riding on my cock? And that Daryl tastes so fucking good?”

It’s enough and there’s a flash across his mind where he remembers Daryl’s worries and he thinks Merle might actually kill him. He takes the hit easily, giving back as good as he can and kicking Merle where he hurts. Merle lashes out with a yell, tackling him to the floor, making Shane have to dodge the blade from his bayonet and land another blow across Merle’s jaw. A fist hits his eye, his ribs get a good kicking but there’s yells around them and he grins, spitting out a spray of red from a bloody lip and staggering to his feet when the crowd of Woodbury people appear to break it up.

He’s shoved aside, Merle is swept up in the mass of bodies and pushed towards the arena, some calling Shane various things over their shoulder and everyone leaving him to himself as they take care of their most prized lieutenant. Taking a second he swipes at his bloodied lip, sneering as the blood mars his sleeve but he knows he’s already wasted enough time and he needed to get their weapons and then get out with Maggie and Glenn.

Glad he’s been ignored he enters the Governor’s offices, glancing around for Michonne as he makes his way through to where their weapons are stored. There’s the sound of a commotion and he’s hurrying, things are smashed, there’s the noise of walkers and a fight and Shane slams open the door hurriedly. The scene that greets him in unreal and he barely had time to think as he tries to take it in. Michonne is on the floor, the Governor on top of her, strangling the life out of her with his bare hands whilst walker heads snap on the floor around them, the body of a little girl lying beside their weapons.

Shane doesn’t give himself time to think, he just reacts, grabbing up a spilled arrow from Daryl’s crossbow and plunging it into the Governor’s eye.


	19. Chapter 19

Woodbury had been a pretty mixed bag for them since they got here. Sure Daryl really couldn’t stop the happiness he felt over finding Merle again, and his brother’s presence mixed with hot water, food and safety meant he was damned relieved to stay here for a while. But it doesn’t take long for things to begin grating on him.

Of course Merle does, but in the best of ways. His brother is an asshole and in this town he seemed to be top asshole, right hand asshole to the Governor and always busy pushing around everyone else. Of course he didn’t mind having the standing to Merle to fall back on and as with life before he found himself getting excused for some things because of his brother. Once people found out you were related to Merle, they tended to let some things slide a bit easier. So when he ends up next to the abandoned warehouses and trying to peek inside to find what was making noise, he gets reprimanded and sent the other way instead of yelled at. Same as when he jumps off the wall to go stab a walker in the face instead of letting them waste ammo on it, he gets a scolding, but not taken off watch duty.

The town is quiet and he’s not sure if it’s in the good way.

He doesn’t mind it at first, it’s kind of nice not to wake up to the sound of walkers groaning on the other side of a wall and trying to get to you, but then it’s also difficult getting used to waking up on his own, without the comfort of the necklace left aside. Woodbury is great in so many ways and he can’t believe their luck in finding it, especially finding it with Merle still alive and mostly well, but in some ways it’s not what he wanted.

It’s not like he’s not thought about this, but having to hide what’s grown between himself and Shane is harder than he’d been expecting. He’d been planning on it being the group they’d find and having to hide what they did from those people as they settled back in. Honestly they weren’t the most observant of folk, they could probably manage to sneak around fairly easily, heck they’d done it before and they were none the wiser.

But instead of the group, they’d found Merle and this bunch of strangers and well, it was more difficult than he’d expected.

Merle was Merle and if there was one person in this world that he sucked at lying to, it was his big brother. He joked along when Merle offered to find him a nice woman in town to warm his bed, as he had used to before all of this, but he can’t help when he ends up looking to Shane from the corner of his eye. It’s hard not to keep an eye on the man he’s spent the last few months with and sometimes it’s difficult not to automatically lean against his side or press a hand to his shoulder as they walked.

So he tries to get away from Shane all together, afraid that he’ll end up giving them away accidentally if he kept spending time with him. Of course it just makes the cravings inside of himself worse and though it’s from a distance, he finds himself looking for Shane more and more. He knows he’s made friends with Michonne, he knows he’s doing his part in helping out the town and he can see the tension in his shoulders and the way he looks like he needs to yell at someone. It’s no surprise when it turns out to be him.

Thing is he loves it. Because though it’s an argument about things he’s not sure how to explain, he still gets to be close to Shane and for a moment that’s enough. He’s thought about him every night, he’d dreamt of him, he’s thought back to nights alone in little hideaways and keeping each other warm with body heat. The shower became a place he enjoyed for more than the hot water available, but for the privacy he got for a few minutes.

Shane was as frustrated as he was but he knew they couldn’t just act like before. Even explaining it all to Shane doesn’t make him much happier, but working out when Merle would be away and they could get some time together does. He makes the most of every second they get, trying to memories Shane’s body against him, burying himself in his scent and committing it all to memory lest he forget when it was over. It’s difficult to get used to, but he tries his best for both of their sake.

There are times that he wants to give in to it all. When he wakes up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and there’s no comforting hand on the back of his neck or chest to curl into, he almost panics once or twice. Then Merle will grunt from his side of the room and it’ll all come back to him, leaving Daryl feeling more alone than ever even when he was surrounded by people. It burns a little inside of him, but it’s for the best and he has to keep reminding himself of that.

They stay hidden, they stay safe and around them Woodbury continues on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened to the world. It’s uncomfortable to be surrounded by people that looked at them funny, as if they were the weirdoes for being out there in the danger zone, taking on walkers for fun or something. He didn’t much like the Woodbury people, but then he’d never exactly been fond of people before all of this shit went down. So he takes advantage of their innocence and darts behind their unobservant backs, pressing against Shane in the darkness of shadows and keeping out of sight.

Despite the change in their situation Shane is the same as always. When Daryl presses his lips over his collarbone he still tastes the same, of hard work and emotion, wood smoke and sex in the middle of the night when everyone else was on watch or busy. For those few moments when they’re together, hidden in Shane’s room away from the rest of Woodbury he forgets about the outside world and just buries himself in Shane. The world is easier to deal with when it’s just the two of them and he can pretend that nothing had changed at all.

Fingers dig into his hips, they bruise his skin when they’re rough and then Shane kisses away the pain in the next moment. Thing is he loves when he’s marked but there’s only so much flesh that he can have bruised now in case Merle saw and started asking questions. There would be no answer he could give, so it was better not to give him a chance to question it. He fucking loves losing himself in every moment and Daryl begins to detest the sound of tyres on the road and their people returning home safely.

As always Shane protests him leaving, wanting more and more as he does but unable to know exactly what would happen if he gave in. But each time he says no it gets more difficult to pull away and the thought of sharing peanut butter and nutella on a beach becomes nothing more than a stupid wish for the future. It’s becoming more and more obvious to him that he needs Shane more than he’d thought he did, and he’s not sure just how much longer they’re going to be able to keep ducking and hiding from the rest of the world.

He blames himself for giving in, for being stupid and letting Shane kiss at his neck as he leans on the window ledge, peering out into the street below and not caring about the world outside that window. It’s stupid and it was his own fault, but he’d just wanted that moment not to end, and sometimes it was difficult to say no to Shane when it was everything he wanted.

When he leaves to find Merle and help with the supplies he tries to act natural even if he can still feel the bruises of Shane’s fingers on his hips and the way he’d been moving inside of him not a few minutes before. It’s more difficult and he has to keep his gaze averted from Merle’s eyes as he helps unload the truck with everyone else. “So what’ve you been up to then little brother?” Merle asks and Daryl swears he can feel his brother checking over his body, searching for answers instead of waiting for a reply.

“The usual.” He shrugs, grabbing a bag of ammo and weapons to drag to the storage rooms, watching his feet in the dirt as he walks and not to where Merle walks alongside him. “Just hanging out with Shane, checking over our maps again to see if we can track down the group.” He doesn’t glance up to Shane’s window above them, instead he makes sure his shirt isn’t as wrinkled as it feels against his still flushed skin.

“You’re still determined to find them huh?” Merle rolls his shoulders, and Daryl doesn’t like the sound of his voice when he speaks, it’s almost accusing. “Thought you’d give up since you’ve found this place.” Glancing around Woodbury Daryl has to agree that this was a good place to stay but he’d made a promise, well a silent promise but it was one all the same.

“It’s only fair Merle, he helped me find you, gotta find his family too.” He shrugs, checking through the ammo with his brother and sorting it into the rightful places on the shelf. Times like this makes him miss his bow and his fingers itch to take a weapon just to have that reassurance at his waistband.

Merle sniggers, leaning on the doorway of the storage rooms and watching him, his eyes still raking over his form in a way that made Daryl want to tug his shirt down a little more over himself. “Oh he still wants to find them huh? Even if skinny bitch’s husband is back in the picture and he ain’t got no chance of sticking it in her anymore?”

There are so many reasons that Shane wouldn’t want to get back with Lori anymore, but the thought of saying them to his brother is ludicrous so Daryl instead focuses on the ammo and his slightly trembling fingers. “It’s…it’s kinda complicated between them Merle.” He explains, thinking of the baby, of himself and of where in the hell he was going to fit in to that fucked up family. “But if he wants to find them then I’ll help him. Weren’t like he understood why I wanted to find you neither.” He points out, remembering exactly how Shane had been happy to describe Merle as a douche bag back at the quarry and that there had been no love lost between either of them.

“Well we’re blood brother, don’t need no other reason than that.” Merle claps his hand on his shoulder, squeezing just this side of too tight and moving to ruffle his hair. It’s not exactly a kind gesture from Merle, it was usually more to keep him in his place as the younger sibling, but he’ll take it as friendly right now. “Blood is blood and that’s the most important thing in the world ain’t it?”

Daryl’s stomach churns a little as he nods, thinking of Shane and quiet promises not to leave the other in the darkness of the world out there. “I know Merle.”

Merle seems satisfied enough and nods, nudging him a little before they leave the storage rooms, heading back to the truck. “Ain’t no one ever gonna care about you but me baby brother, you gotta remember that.”

“I know.” He does know. He remembers being told those words practically everyday when he was a kid and knowing that even if their father was a piece of fucking shit, he didn’t get to complain or get their blood in trouble. Blood was blood and blood stuck together. Even if the blood was toxic. “I ain’t never gonna forget Merle.” Because he knew he practically owed Merle his life, his brother had practically raised him when he hadn’t had to, but they were blood and Merle had given everything for him. It was a lesson well learned by now.

Heading back to the truck he frowns a little when the Governor happens upon them, that too bright smile on his face and looking out of place at the end of the world. Daryl had always wondered what his job was before all of this and everything points towards him being some kind of salesman. The kind of person who would call the elderly and persuade them to buy something useless over the phone, the kind of scam artist who looked like a good boy. Everything about the man rubs him up the wrong way and the fact that Merle listens to him makes it even worse.

Still he follows Merle’s lead and smile back, standing beside his brother and giving a nod of greeting when the Governor stands before them like the arrogant dick he was. Personally Daryl reckons Merle would have beaten the shit out of him if this man hadn’t saved his life. Least Merle still paid his debts as always.

“Merle! I’ve got something I need you to come and take a look at real quick.” The Governor smirks, hands on his hips and gesturing towards some of the warehouses down the end of the town. Everything this man does is with an air of arrogance, as if he was too good for the walkers to chew his face off.

“Sure thing.” Merle is grinning up to him, but takes the time to shove at Daryl’s side before he heads off to where the Governor is pointing. “Hey don’t forget tonight little brother, this one’s gonna be the best show yet. Show these city folk some real Dixon moves huh?” Merle throws a few punches to the air, acting the fool and it’s enough to get Daryl grinning a little, remembering a time where the fights wouldn’t have been scheduled and he’d have been the one bailing Merle out when it all started to go to shit.

“You know he’s gotten a lot better since you showed up Daryl.” The Governor smirks, staying beside him as they watch Merle leave, Daryl feeling uncomfortable in the other man’s presence but not willing to show it. “Honestly his temper was so bad before I thought we were going to have to do something about him. But now you’re here, well you’re good for him.”

Daryl isn’t sure he wants to know what the Governor’s solution for Merle’s bad temper would have been, but he doesn’t think it would have been good. Shrugging a little he doesn’t want to make a big deal of it and just kicks at the dirt beneath his feet. “Just know how to handle him is all.”

“And we’re grateful for it. Now I’ve got a pair of Dixon brothers here protecting our town and I couldn’t ask for more than that.” The Governor nods and Daryl can’t help but watch him carefully, hating how the man just doesn’t seem bothered by anything at all. He stands tall, undaunted and lethal even when he didn’t have a weapon.

Chewing on his thumbnail he cocks his head to the side, turning to face the man properly and not back down until he got his own way. “Be better defending the place if I could have my bow, think I’ve proven myself by now to have it back.” They’ve been here a week or more, they’ve not done anything wrong or stepped a foot out of line, if they didn’t deserve their weapons by now then he didn’t know what else they could do to get them back. Besides not having his bow was starting to get to him and his fingers itched for the familiar weight to be back in his hands.

The Governor takes a moment to watch him, to take a note of his fidgeting and there’s a small smirk on his lips that Daryl really doesn’t like at all. “You’re right, I’ll make sure I get it to you tomorrow, first thing. Merle keeps saying you’re a good hunter, maybe you can find us some fresh meat around here.”

He nods a little, not promising anything but giving at least a sign of wanting to do right by the town and the people. Honestly he just wants his bow back. “What about Shane?” He asks and that fucking smirk on the other man’s face gets bigger. Daryl takes half a step back.

“What about him?”

“He needs his weapons back too.”

“Does he now?” Daryl squares his shoulders, takes that half a step closer again and feels ready to take on this asshole in front of him. It may be the dumbest thing to do in this situation but he will not let him stand there and doubt Shane like that. “And why would he need them? Doesn’t look like much of a hunter to me and besides, he’s more of a loose cannon around here. I don’t know if I can trust him around my people.”

He spits to the floor, moving, pacing, watching the Governor and noting the way he doesn’t look at all on edge about his reaction. In fact he looks a little amused, that just pisses Daryl off more. “Shane can be trusted, he’d never hurt anyone. He used to be a cop for god’s sake, defending the innocent and all that shit. You want fresh meat from me you gotta give him his weapons back too, ‘s only fair.”

“Oh you two come as a pair then do you? Interesting.” There’s a pause as the Governor looks over him, watching him closely a for a second Daryl swears the man can see inside his very soul. “Very well, I’ll make sure that Shane gets his weapons back tomorrow as well. I’m glad you’re with us Daryl, you’ve become a vital part of this community here.” Daryl flinches when the Governor steps closer, reaching out to place a hand on the back of his neck and bring him closer, leaning in as if he’s sharing a secret with him. “Woodbury needs you here, I need you here, your brother needs you here. And so does Shane.”

When the Governor walks off to follow Merle Daryl rubs at the back of his neck, hating the feeling that runs up the back of his spine and tries to shake it off. Moving back to his and Merle’s rooms he tries to ignore the worry in his chest, it was nothing, he was just being an idiot, the Governor knew nothing and neither did Merle. He was being a paranoid son of a bitch again.

Hunting through the maps they’d gathered over time he begins picking through them, finding all the places they’d crossed off and circling where Woodbury was in comparison. Trailing his fingers over the area he pauses on each cross, remembering every moment of their search and how the past few months had felt like a lifetime to him. He and Shane had stopped at each cross, hunted for the group, shared their lives on the road and gotten so much closer for it. It was ridiculous but in the past few months he felt like he’d gotten closer to Shane than he ever had with anyone else.

They were a team together and now they were in a place of safety and supplies it made the time they’d been together seem more unreal than ever. Here they were behind walls, kept away from the danger and around people again. It was strange and though he knew he should be grateful for the safety and everything Woodbury could give them, he wants to experience that feeling again. The feeling of it being just he and Shane and feeling complete. Tracing along the highway he finds what he’s looking for and circles the Greene’s farm before leaning back to guesstimate the distance between Woodbury and their original position. It’s not the furthest distance in the world and if they took a car with a full tank of gas and some extra they should be more than able to get there and back in a couple of days maximum.

It would be a trip for the pair of them, hidden under the guise of searching for clues of the group’s whereabouts and recovering Merle’s bike for him. He and Shane could go together, take the time to enjoy the ride now they knew there was safety at the end of it for them, it would be just like before. Just the two of them and the open road.

Chewing on his lower lip he traces the roadways there and back, it wouldn’t even be a real risk and besides Shane had promised to go back with him to get Merle’s bike. He’d like that, and maybe he could convince Shane to go on a ride with him, he could get him to hold on tight and press against his back, clinging on to him and enjoy the clear air in his face as the world passed by. It wouldn’t be the beach by any measure, but it wasn’t like they could be picky when it came to vacations nowadays.

He knows Shane would just enjoy the chance to get out of this town and have it be just the two of them again and if he could convince Merle to let them go then his brother could get the Governor to agree. Heck they’d survived months on foot, a couple of days out there to get Merle’s bike would be nothing. Except it would be just he and Shane and to him that would be everything. Nodding to himself he decides it’s worth mentioning to Shane tonight when they went to the fight, watching as Merle took on Martinez and the toothless walkers for the town’s entertainment. Personally he didn’t get it, he’d been in a similar situation with Shane before and really it was anything other than fun.

But hey, who was he to point out how stupid it was to show the walkers as nothing but entertainment? Wasn’t his town, wasn’t his problem.

Rolling up the map he’s about to go and find Shane himself to let him know his plan when the door slams open and automatically he’s reaching for his belt, going for the knife he’s been allowed to keep and ready to defend himself. When he finds Shane stalking towards him at first he’s relieved, but then he sees the look on the man’s face and he’s worried.

“We’ve got to leave, now.”

Glancing back down at the map he wonders if maybe Shane could read his mind, but he doesn’t look excited, he just look terrified and that look has never played out well for Daryl before. “What?” He asks and Shane begins moving around him, snatching up his bag and shoving supplies into it, looking scared and on edge as he moves.

Shane explains, or he says something close to an explanation mixed with words of trust and fear and that’s enough for Daryl. He wants to tell him to slow down, to sit and explain it all properly but clearly there’s no time. Shane is panicking, talking about Glenn and Maggie, their weapons and Michonne and it’s all a jumble in his head until Shane tells him to trust him and god he knows he does. He tries to make a joke of it, mentioning the ‘shrooms again but Shane doesn’t bite, instead he grabs him, he kisses him and barks orders at him and a lifetime of conditioning means he knows he’s going to obey.

Then Shane is gone and he’s lost, questioning himself and his choices but letting his legs moves automatically, taking him to the far end of the street and the closed of house he knows Shane wants to meet him in. Daryl feels on edge, lost and out of the loop as he finds Shane’s bag already there along with Michonne’s and he wonders why he wasn’t a part of this plan they clearly had together.

Chewing on his thumb he waits in the house, pacing back and forth over the dusty floorboards and wondering what the hell was going on. Shane had asked him to trust him and that meant he knew to fall in line because something was happening that Shane didn’t have time to explain. He remembers the country club, the herd of walkers and the danger and it makes him shudder a little.

Shane had gone and fucked up all his plans for the next day and he found himself frustrated with that. He’d been trying to get this to work here, he had the Governor promising their weapons back, he was going to get them to go on a trip just to two of them but now here he was busting out Glenn and Maggie from the Governor’s clutches. It didn’t make any sense and he finds himself glaring at his backpack that he’d tossed to the floor.

Okay he wasn’t mad about Shane wanting to save Glenn and Maggie (if that really was who he’d seen captured) heck he’d do the same because dammit that kid and the farmer’s girl were nice people. But he just didn’t understand it. Why were they here? Where were the rest of the group? Were they nearby? Was Lori with them and still pregnant? Or maybe they had the baby now? Heck he doesn’t know, but it’s all a lot to take in all at once.

He was happy to help with getting them out of here because though they owed the Governor their lives the man was a creep and it seems his gut feeling about him was obviously right. The man was not to be trusted if he was keeping Glenn and Maggie secret, but the thing is there was no going back after this. If they got Glenn and Maggie out of here then the Governor would know about it and know of their betrayal, and that meant…

Glaring at their bags he kicks at them angrily, hating them in that moment and despising how Shane had decided to make all his choices for him so suddenly. He’d done as he was asked and come down to the meeting point with his bags packed but right now was the first time he’d really thought over what Shane had said. _“We’re leaving here tonight.”_

Shane had no intention of them returning after getting Glenn and Maggie out, he’d packed his bag for him, pushed him to follow like he always did and now he was leading him forward, out of the hidden exit and back into the world out there. A world without fresh water, a world without protection and safety, a world without the Governor bearing down on them. A world without Merle.

Right now his brother was in the arena, beating down everyone else and a few walkers, listening to the crowd that loved him roar in delight and cheer for his victory. And he was here, hidden in the shadows and ready to bolt away from him, leaving him, abandoning him again without so much as a fucking goodbye. What kind of a brother was he? What kind of a person was he to do that? Shane wouldn’t understand, he was an only child, he was a cop, he was meant to save people and do the selfless thing, but here Daryl was following and for the first time in a long time he’s not so sure that following Shane is the right idea at all.

The door bursts open, there’s a bustle of movement and Daryl flinches when someone grabs him round the neck in a hug. It’s Maggie, the farmer’s daughter he barely knew in tears over seeing him again and hanging on as if he was her personal saviour. Swallowing back the unease he pats at her back, pulling away and not asking why she was wearing Glenn’s shirt and the other man was bare from the waist up, bruised and cut, bloody and clearly hurting. Wincing a little he nods to him in greeting, looking to Shane for answers, for a lead or just something and finding the familiar weight of his crossbow shoved into his palms.

“Let’s go!” Michonne hisses and they follow, each of them keeping low, keeping quiet even though Daryl knows they won’t be heard over the roar of the crowd in the arena. Maggie helps Glenn stumble through the brush, Michonne keeps an eye out to the side of them and there’s a hushed conversation about a car being a few miles out for them to use to get back to the prison.

He falls back to jog alongside Shane, able to feel the lay of the land beneath his feet and not have to look where he’s going as much. A lifetime of living in the woods meant he was made for this and so he doesn’t even stumble as he glances back over his shoulder, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of Woodbury behind him. Something inside of him pulls tighter and he grips his bow a bit tighter, focussing on grabbing an arrow to load into the mechanism, frowning when his hand comes away wet with blood. He’s not sure he wants to ask.

“They’ve secured a prison up the way.” Shane grins, out of breath but still running alongside him, a hand on his back between his shoulder blades and keeping him close, mapping out their proximity to each other even in the darkness. “Can you believe it? They’re only a few miles away from us, they’re right here Daryl, all this time they’ve been a few miles away and we had no idea.”

Daryl can’t believe it because it seems too damned good to be true. Shane is grinning, a real smile that he hasn’t seen for a long time and damn he can’t believe how much he’s missed seeing that. Looking ahead of them he can see Glenn stumble a little but Maggie is there to hold him up, to be there for him and to get him to safety whether it kills her or not. Michonne is lethal, taking down the odd walker that stumbles across them before the rest of them even know it’s there, she’s brutal, she’s fast and she’s strong. He knows she’s going to fit into the group as seamlessly as Shane is.

As for him, he’s not so sure. Shane is so excited about seeing them all, about being back with Rick, getting to see Carl and Lori and the baby, about getting to be with his family again. Where did he fall in all of that? He’d been an outsider the first time with the group, the tag along that they kept because he could take down walkers and he was too stubborn to leave. He’d thought he was becoming a part of them, he remembers Rick telling him so and he can remember just how fucking good that felt to be a part of it all, but a lot of time had passed since then and all he’d had was Shane. He knew how to be with Shane, but he didn’t know how to be with people.

“I can’t believe it Daryl, we’ve found them, we’ve found my family after all this time.” Shane laughs, and he’s so fucking happy Daryl doesn’t know whether to kiss him or punch him. Because it’s something he can’t give Shane anymore, not like that, not in this world with more people than just the two of them. Slowly to a walk he looks back behind himself and can see Woodbury, a subtle glow in the distance, barely anything but also everything. They’ve found Shane’s family just like he’d promised and he’d found his too.

“What about Merle?” He asks and though he knows he’s quiet, Shane hears him and pauses, causing a ripple affect in their small group and they double back to him when he stops completely. They’re all there and he hates it, he hates being the reason so he watches Shane, gripping his bow and praying for an answer that was going to fix all of this.

“Daryl…” Shane begins, rubbing at the back of his neck and fuck Daryl knows that move, he knows that never means anything good.

“He did this to me Daryl.” Glenn speaks up, blood spattering over his chin as he talks, looking worse for ware in the dimness of the evening light. “He did this, he set a walker on me too and that’s not even saying what they did to Maggie.” Daryl can’t see many injuries on her but he knows that doesn’t mean she wasn’t hurt worse than Glenn. Swallowing back that knowledge he shifts the weight of the bow back and forth, chewing on his bottom lip and fuck he hates this. “He can’t come back with us. He’s dangerous, can you imagine what he’d do to Rick for chaining him to that roof? What if he took it out on the baby?”

The baby. He remembers every reason that Shane wanted to go back there and he meets the other man’s eyes, seeing the longing there, the want, the need to go and find his baby and his family. He feels a similar tug in his chest and he knows it’s not pulling him in the same direction. “Then I can’t go with you either.”

“Daryl-“

“We don’t have time for this.” Michonne cuts off Shane, looking on edge and looking back to Woodbury before continuing. “They’ll notice you’re missing and come after us if we don’t hurry!” she hisses, gesturing to Maggie and Glenn and Daryl knows they’re right, as does Shane and he’s not surprised when Shane’s emotions get the best of him and he snaps.

“Then go already! We’ll catch up!” Shane barks, glaring at them all and it’s enough to send them away, to get Glenn limping away with a longing look to the pair of them and Maggie being his crutch. Michonne looks a little confused, she’s placing a lot of trust in people she doesn’t know and Shane is the link between them all, but she goes, she does as she’s told and then it’s just the two of them again. Out in the woods alone like before.

Earlier he would have given anything to be here again but right now he’s completely lost and having Shane here isn’t helping for once. “You should-“

“What the hell are you doing man?” Shane snaps and Daryl knows he ain’t good at goodbyes but right now it seems Shane ain’t so good either. The other man lets his emotions get the best of him and this time Daryl can’t find it within himself to get him to calm down. “We ain’t got time for this shit, we were trying to find the group in the first place, now we found them, let’s go. The Governor is insane, he’ll kill you for helping us.”

“He doesn’t know I was involved Shane.” He points out gently, unsure if he’s making the right choice, but knowing it’s the only one he can make. “If I go back, I can put my bow back and he don’t ever need to know. I’ll say I was at the fight, Merle’ll cover for me, he always has.”

Shane shakes his head, pacing, hands on his hips, licking at his lips and Daryl knows every little tell the other man has. He knows exactly how he feels and he hates that he’s the one that’s made him feel that way. “Daryl, Daryl you ain’t thinking straight right now, come on man.”

“Shane he’s my brother. You wanted to find your family and you have, and I’ve found mine. Don’t…don’t ask me to leave him again.” Blood is blood and right now Shane had a baby to go meet and he had an injured brother to look out for. The Governor has said Merle was easier to deal with now he was there, what chance did Merle have without him? Something inside of him was breaking, but blood is blood, it’s all he’s ever been taught, it’s all he knows. It has to be the right choice.

“But what about us?” Shane snarls, letting it all out as anger and Daryl can’t blame him, because there’s a fire or something burning inside of himself and it’s so much easier to deal with it all if he’s angry. He wants to punch Shane for making him feel like this, for even making this choice anything other than easy for him. “What about me?”

Daryl doesn’t have an answer, he doesn’t know what to say or to do to make this any easier so instead he shrugs the bow onto his back, chews on his nail for a split second and when Shane goes to reach for him he shoves him back. He pushes him away, again and again when Shane keeps trying to grab at him, to pull him closer and make him feel that familiar weight of their bodies pressed together. It hurts. Not physically but in some other way he feels himself breaking and fuck it hurts so much but he knows how to deal with pain. You got through it and eventually it went away. “You have to go.” He hisses, scrabbling to get back from Shane when the other man grabs him.

He’s pulled closer, close enough for Shane to grab at the back of his neck, to force their foreheads together and fuck he doesn’t know how to deal with this. So he gives in, he stops fighting it and instead clings to Shane’s shirt, letting their bodies press together in the most familiar of ways and remember all the times he’s felt this before. He knows this man before him. He knows Shane and he knows how he feels for him, but he knows this choice is the only one he can make.

For a second he closes his eyes, pressing close enough to take in his scent, to remember the way their bodies feel together and to press his lips against Shane’s. The kiss isn’t anything special, but it’s everything for a moment. He remembers every one they’ve ever shared, he remembers nights alone in the woods with Shane, he remembers promises of the beach and peanut butter, or a life after all of this for the two of them. He feels pathetic for dreaming at all and he hates himself when he pulls away. But it has to be done and if he doesn’t do it now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever manage to break away.

Keeping his eyes closed he feels the warmth of Shane’s body shift away from him. There’s a moment of rustling, a soft chink of metal running over chain and Shane’s fingers move one last time over his neck before pulling away. Daryl listens to the crunch of leaves underfoot, the telltale quietness of being left alone in the world and he waits for the world to be silent once more before moving.

It’s not until he’s back inside Woodbury’s walls that he allows himself to wrap his fingers around the twenty-two charm that hangs around his neck and remember the broken promise that came with it. Shane wasn’t coming back for it this time. He wasn’t coming back for him either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The wonderful yvonne_tsugu drew a wonderful accompaniment to the final scene of this chapter over here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1691513/chapters/4369227  
> It's exactly how I imagined this scene when I wrote it, so please make sure you go and check it out and give you comments on this amazing artwork. It's because of one of her previous pieces that inspired the necklace exchange idea in the first place, so I owe a lot of the inspiration for this fic to them and I'd like to thank them so much for allowing me to use the idea and run with it.


	20. Chapter 20

“Where’s Daryl?”

Shane doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if he could find the words to explain what had just happened to them all. They wouldn’t understand anyway, even if Michonne was looking at him with sympathy as she starts the car, he just doesn’t want to explain right now. So he climbs in the passenger seat and gazes out the window whilst Maggie holds Glenn close and points out directions for Michonne. Right now he didn’t want to even think of Daryl Dixon.

He’d made the right choice. Of course he had. Maggie and Glenn had needed their help, they’d been injured, traumatised by the looks of things and fuck he knew that Governor asshole was bad news from the start. Why didn’t he listen to his gut in the first place? Shane spends the whole drive hating himself, wishing he’d seen things sooner, cursing his ability to look past the problems and enjoy Woodbury for the good it provided. He’d been a fool.

Glenn tries to ask again but Maggie shuts him up, it seems she’s far more intuitive than her boyfriend and she can see whatever emotions are showing on his face. As far as he’s concerned there’s nothing to say anyway, they had other things to focus on right now. They needed to get to the safety of the prison before they were found out and they needed to get help for their injured. The world couldn’t revolve around himself and his stupid problems, so they should just ignore them and move ahead.

The prison comes in to view and Shane can’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. The place was huge, fences line the entire area, there’s grassland, multiple buildings and he just knows there would be lock downs through the place so they could keep one area secure. Of course Rick would know that too, Rick would have led them here and now they were all so much safer than if they’d been on the road.

The excitement begins then. The knowledge that Rick was inside there, just a few minutes more and he’d see him, his brother, his best friend was alive and here. The drive feels like it takes an age and Shane can’t help but feel a little out of place when he doesn’t recognise the two men opening the gates for them. It’s been months since he’d seen the group last, but in his mind they’d stayed the same and now he had to face the facts. Things would have changed in that amount of time.

Voices call around them, some questioning, some in relief. There’s guns, weapons, so very few people for such a large building but right now he doesn’t care because he can see them and it’s like Rick has just come back from the dead all over again.

“Shane!” He barely gets a few feet from the car when Carl is yelling his name, sprinting towards him as fast as he can. The sheriff’s hat flies off to the ground, forgotten in a moment as the kid barrels towards him, only he’s not much of a kid anymore. The boy has grown and when arms wrap around his neck he grins at the feel, falling to his knees to wrap Carl in a hug, burying his face in the boy’s neck and surrounding himself with his warmth. Carl was alive, he was strong and growing, here in his arms and he never thought he’d see him again.

“I’m okay.” He mutters, needing to reassure the kid like after the CDC incident and not caring about who was watching. “It’s okay, I’m fine, I’m okay Carl.” And God does it feel good to say those words and actually mean it for once. He’d found them, they were here and real and he can’t help the tears in his eyes when he pulls back to look the kid over.

Carl is crying too, laughing, hiccupping on a sob of happiness as he grabs onto his shirt, not willing to let go just yet. “It’s you, it’s really you. We thought you were dead after the farm.”

Shaking his head he runs his fingers through his hair, smirking at how long it’s gotten and knowing it must be driving Lori crazy to not be able to get the kid to sit still long enough to cut it. Looking over Carl’s shoulder he can’t stop smiling when he finds that Rick has joined them. Standing he keeps a hand on Carl’s shoulder, firm and not leaving the kid just yet as he stands before Rick.

The man looks haggard, tired and not just around the eyes but all over. He’s dirty, he’s got a strength in his jaw that speaks of determination and he knows, he just knows that Rick is the reason they’re all here and alive right now. But he’s Rick. He’s all Rick and godamn he’ll take that any day.

Rick gives a half sob as they embrace and he can’t help the similar one that leaves his throat. He’d never thought he’d see them again and yet here they were, alive, right here with him and so fucking alive. His best friend was alive and now they’d both come back from the dead to find each other in this fucked up world. He can’t believe it at first, but Rick’s heart is thudding in his chest against his own, real and alive. So very fucking alive.

Leaning back he places their foreheads together, he can feel him breathing, he can see the tears and the sheer disbelief on his face over it all and damn he knows he looks the same. “Missed you brother.” He manages to mumble, honestly meaning it and not feeling a single surge of jealousy or hatred that he’d had on the farm. This man was his brother, his best friend, the man he had risked everything for and he would do it all again in a heartbeat.

It’s like moving in a dream as they make their way inside, Michonne lingering on the sidelines until she’d welcomed into the fold, Hershel ordering everyone about so he can tend to the injured and leaving Shane to try and remember how things had been before. Carol hugs him, in tears and shaking but seemingly unable to stop smiling and calling it a miracle that he was here. Andrea smirks, cocky, clearly more down to earth now and calling him late to the party.

There aren’t many of them now, the two from the gate seem to be prisoners and he’s not sure how he feels about that. There’s the other Greene girl whose name he can’t recall, and some new people he knows he’s never met before. They’re introduced to him as Tyreese and Sasha but though he doesn’t mean to be rude there’s one person he doesn’t see that he really wants to right now.

“Where’s Lori?”

They don’t need to say a word for him to know and it’s like a weight falling inside of himself. It slips from his chest to his stomach and he looks to Rick, not for answers but just for something. Maybe he wants him to deny it, to say it’s not true and that she was here somewhere with the baby and just coming to greet him. But there’s a hollowness in his friend’s eyes and he just knows. Lori wasn’t coming, Lori wasn’t here, Lori was dead.

He doesn’t want to ask how or when or why, those aren’t questions that anyone should have to answer and death was far too prominent in their lives to talk about everyday. It crushes him and though he doesn’t realise it he’s sitting on the ground in an instant, his legs refusing to hold him up any longer. She was gone. Lori was dead and he didn’t get to see her or tell her everything he’d wanted to say to her. She’d died not knowing how sorry he was and how much he wanted her to be happy and safe.

Rick’s hand is on his shoulder but he’s not looking at him and Shane can understand why. It would be far too painful for Rick to even think about and right now he knows that feeling. Squashing it down and pushing it away was easier, focussing on more important things, bigger and brighter things that didn’t make you want to tear out your hair and scream to the heavens. Running his tongue over his lips he takes a shaky breath, trying to get it past the tightness in his chest to ask when he’s cut off by a cry from across the room.

A baby’s cry.

As if it were calling to him personally he’s on his feet, heading towards the small box on the table and standing over it. Peering inside he can see a mass of blankets and one tiny fist shaking from within, the wails and cries continue and he looks up to Rick for some kind of strength for this. His friend nods, but there’s a stillness in his eyes when he looks to the box that terrifies Shane somewhat.

Reaching into the box he’s careful with the fragile form he lifts out, making sure to brace a few fingers behind the baby’s head as he lifts them into his arms. The pink bundle whines up at him, face screwed up as she wails and he lets her curl closer to his chest, her tiny fingers latching onto his shirt as she squirms in his arms. He tries to soothe her, stroking over her back, cooing to her until she quietens and all he can hear is the occasional sniffle that accompanies his own tears. She’s perfect.

“Her name’s Judith.” Carl offers and he’s dragged from staring at her in awe to meet the boy’s eyes. He looks sad, lost almost as he looks over his baby sister and Shane knows that the baby isn’t too small. So she’d been carried to term, that meant that Lori… It hadn’t been long. He’d just missed her and she’d never know how sorry he was.

Nodding he rocks her lightly, letting her nuzzle at his chest for comfort and not caring when she drools over him. “She’s beautiful.” He mutters and he means it. This whole time he doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this perfect little life he was holding wasn’t it. Judith was more than his kid or Rick’s kid, she was Lori’s daughter and that meant more than anything now. He’s going to be there for her no matter what, he’s going to keep her safe and watch her grow and survive this world because she’s Lori’s daughter and she deserved to live.

“It’s time for her feed.” The Greene girl, Beth he remembers, says to him and he hands her over, feeling the lack of her gentle weight the second it’s gone. He can’t believe everything that’s happened since he’s gone and how they were all here. Dale was gone, so was T-Dog, Jimmy and Patricia. Lori. They’d lost so many of them and he didn’t want to know the details because that wouldn’t help anybody and would only bring pain.

Except there’s one person’s death he needs to speak about because he knew sometimes people needed closure.

“Carol.” He doesn’t know exactly how to say it to her. This woman before him, he could she that she wasn’t the same woman from the farm. She was steel, worked hard until she was unbreakable and he respects that and doesn’t want to bring her back down to a point where she could be broken. Rubbing at the back of his neck Shane isn’t sure how to explain. “I need to talk to you about Sophia.”

If she was the woman from before she would have broken down, clutching at herself and looking to him with bright pleading eyes for answers. Instead Carol takes his hand, sits them down at the tabletop and places her other hand on top of his. She knows. He can see it in her eyes that she knows but he needs to tell her, if only because of what he went through that day for her little girl.

“We went back to the farm after…after everything.” He begins, unable to stop from running his hand through his hair in agitation and he finds himself calming a little when Carol’s hand tightens a little over his own. Giving him her strength for the moment. “She was there but she was…” Carol ducks her head in understanding so he doesn’t say the word. “We buried her beneath the big tree on the hilltop. So she could look down on the farm. When things are better, I’ll take you back there.”

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until Carol’s fingers tighten over his own, steadying him as she looks up to meet his eyes. She’s not crying but there are tears in her eyes, and he hopes that maybe some part of herself that was always left wondering had its answer, even if it wasn’t a good one. “Thank you.” She says, reaching out to brush her fingers over his cheek in a moment shared between them before she’s gone, walking away from them all for a moment to herself.

“We?” Carl asks.

Shane doesn’t want to answer him, he doesn’t need to think about that right now, not with everything else that had happened and the more important issues they had to deal with. Looking to Rick he knows his friend can read him like a book and he’s grateful when the subject is changed. That wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with Carl at the moment, or anyone else for that matter.

“We’re glad to have you back Shane.” Rick nods to him, and Shane swears he can see the hollowness in the man’s eyes start to fade a little. He’s hopeful that whatever wounds Rick has gained over their time apart could maybe begin to heal now he was there to help with the burden. “And we’re so grateful for you bringing back Glenn and Maggie. We didn’t even know they’d been kidnapped we just thought they’d gotten caught up in a run.”

“Well I wasn’t going to leave them there now was I?” He smirks, glad for the feeling of easiness that is almost tangible between he and Rick. It’s been so long and yet he’s fallen right back into place here, beside his best friend and ready to help in anyway he can. “I’m just glad they’re okay and I think I’ve given the Governor enough of a reason to stay away from the prison.”

Carl looks to him questioningly but he doesn’t elaborate, instead he falls back into easy conversation with everyone, glad to be back in the fold and feeling so accepted. He talks about their time apart as do they, there’s mention of those they’ve lost and he recalls some of his and Daryl’s journey, but not the details. Every time he speaks he can feels Rick’s eyes on him, reading him easily and knowing that there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was hiding because he didn’t want to deal with the thoughts and feelings it brought up.

The evening draws on through into night and despite having so much to catch up on Shane soon finds everyone leaving for their cells, retiring for the night and bidding him well wishes and a gratefulness for his return. It’s strange how much of a contrast the prison is to Woodbury. Where the town held every single amenity he could want and none of the warmth, the prison was barely a shelter but it felt like home.

He’s missed this, the easy feeling of being in someone’s company and not having to try to be comfortable. Rick and he know each other so well and can read each other easily, so it’s no wonder that when Carl is sent to bed and it’s just the two of them left to do a final sweep of the perimeter that Rick is giving him the side eye.

“What you giving me that look for man?” He asks, shotgun resting on his shoulder as they walk side by side, taking out the occasional walker with their knives. It’s as peaceful a night as they were going to get in the world now.

Rick gives a lazy shrug, watching him as if he still can’t believe he’s here and watching his reaction. “There’s something you’re not telling me Shane.” He points out and of course Rick would notice. He’d see the words not said, the way he’d tried to avoid saying his name or mentioning him at all if possible because the ache in his chest was still there and would flare every time he thought about him.

“Nah man, just a lot to take in you know.” Shane dismisses it easily, not wanting to even try to explain everything. “What with the losses and the baby and stuff, it’s just real sudden is all.” He stabs a walker in the eye, watches it crumple and moves on to the next one. Rick is beside him, and Shane knows the man too well, he knows this topic isn’t going to be dropped.

“Shane you said you were with Daryl until Woodbury. You never said he got bit or anything.”

It feels like too much and he pulls back from the fence to shake his head to Rick, trying to tell him just how much he didn’t want to do this. The walkers growl at them both but he’s deaf to the noise, focussed on Rick and the look of worry in his eyes when he looks to him. “Don’t…don’t do this Rick. Not now.”

His best friend moves closer, Rick places a hand on his shoulder and fuck it’s the first person he’s really had to talk to about this that wasn’t involved. Then Rick meets his eyes and shit he knows that Rick is only thinking of him. “Shane whatever it is I can see it’s weighing on you. You know you can tell me.”

Of course he knows. He always trusted Rick with everything he had, even his life at times and yet this was the thing that felt like maybe it was too personal? Running his tongue over his lips he moves his hand down, fidgeting at his collar a little as he gives in. “He’s still there alright. I didn’t tell the others ‘cause I didn’t want the drama, but Merle’s there too. He was the one that found us out in the woods and he’s there too, one hand and a bayonet on a stump if you can believe it. When it came time to go Daryl helped us escape but then when we were out there heading for the car he just… he chose his brother. He chose the guy who did that to Glenn.” Shane hisses, shifting his weight in discomfort at the memory before realising how fucking tight his chest felt. “He chose his godamned brother over me Rick.”

Rick shuffles a little in place, shifting his weight and Shane can see the unspoken questions he’s holding back. The how, then when and the whys all blurring together in a mix of confusion. He knows it’s a lot to take in, when they’d last seen each other things had been so different, yet here they were. “You guys got close over the last few months?” His friend asks and how the hell was he meant to answer that?

He remembers at the farm when it had been nothing more than a mistake and an adrenaline rush. When he’d pinned Daryl down beneath him that first time and they’d both gotten than sudden rush that they’d needed to get out the tension of their lives now. Shane remembers how things had been silently agreed upon between them and they’d gotten to an understanding, a mutual use of each other when things got too much.

Then the herd had happened and somehow between the panic, the death, the stress and the isolation of two men against the world they had become something more. Daryl had become more to him than just another body to use, he’d become his friend, his confidant, his partner and so much more in between the lines. He remembers nights curled together in the cold, sharing body heat and secrets, muttering in the darkness to each other and able to see their breath mist together in the air between them.

There had been promises and plans. A mix of laughter over peanut butter and nutella that had become a running joke and thoughts of the beach and giving Daryl his first vacation. He’d made a mental list of things to share with him and he knew Daryl had done the same. They’d had each other’s back for so long that every time he turned around he half expected the other man to be there giving him a silent nod to signal that everything was calm and safe for them both.

Not having Daryl there by his side had been hard enough in Woodbury when he knew the man was safe, but now being miles away and unable to even guess at his status was damned near killing him. He’d done so well to keep it locked up, to ignore the tightness in his chest and the way he wanted to grab a car and drive back to Woodbury to drag the man here himself. Shane knew Daryl had made his choice, he knew his reasons and he knew he’d made the right choice for himself too; but it didn’t mean he had to like the outcome of it all.

“Yeah.” He finally mutters, looking up to meet Rick’s eyes and knowing his best friend can read between the lines and hear the words he’s not saying out loud because they would be too painful. “Yeah we got real close man. Close enough that…that I really thought he would choose me.”

And Rick is there for him, hands on his shoulders and letting him take a moment to just breathe through the upset inside of himself. There are no tears, he feels too lost for them right now, but he just feels empty about it all. It’s as if the whole day can’t be real and between the loss of Daryl and the appearance of the baby, he’s wondering if maybe he won’t wake up soon enough with Daryl in his arms to listen about his crazy dream.

But he’s not dreaming, this is the reality. Shane has dealt with his best friend in a coma, he’s dealt with walkers, with Lori and he finding their own comfort, with leaving home and trying to defend a camp of strangers; but this was the part of his life that makes him want to break down.

“Come on.” Rick nudges him, easing him back into the here and now even if he doesn’t want to be there anymore. “We need to get some sleep.”

Of course he nods and follows the other man, trudging in his footsteps through the unfamiliar doors of the prison into the cellblock and finding himself unsure of where he stands. Rick doesn’t give him a moment to hesitate and nods for him to follow, showing him to an empty cell and helping him hang a sheet across the doorway. It’s not much, just an empty prison cell with the usual couple of bunks and his pack tossed in the corner from where someone had placed it, but it’ll do.

“It’s good to have you back brother.” Rick nods to him and though Shane feels the same way it’s still hard to force a smile back before the man leaves him to it.

The bunk isn’t comfortable at all. The mattress is thin, the sheets are stale smelling and he’s not exactly used to using a single lately. But it’s safe, it’s in the home that Rick has made for his family and around him he can hear the telltale sounds of the group sleeping, so it’s enough.

Kicking off his boots he sets down his weapons besides himself, far too used to being prepared to let his knife move further away than beneath his pillow. Shane shifts onto his side, facing the wall in the dim light and though he knows his body needs sleep he’s fully aware it’ll be difficult to obtain tonight when his mind was elsewhere.

He knows that Rick will keep whatever he took from their conversation to himself and not share it with anyone else, and he’s grateful for that. Michonne knows, he has a feeling she’s always known but she was a woman of few words and she acted as if gossip was beneath her anyway. It’s not that he’s ashamed of what he and Daryl had become but what was the point of making it common knowledge when there wasn’t anything there anymore?

Daryl was in Woodbury, probably curled up in his bed in a room shared with his brother and sleeping contentedly knowing he’d made the right decision. Shane knew he’d be chewing on that damned thumb of his in his sleep, lips pressed against the flesh of his thumb and murmuring if it got shifted away. He knew the other man liked to curl up in his sleep and without Shane there he was probably wrapped about his pillow and kicking off the sheets, too hot to need them but too stubborn to sleep without them.

Tugging at his collar to loosen it his fingers trail over his neck, feeling the absence of the thin metal chain that had always sat there since he was in high school. It feels strange for it not to be there, and he knows that Rick had noticed even if he hadn’t said anything. If nothing else then the fact he’d given it to Daryl was enough of a sign of what the other man meant to him.

Closing his eyes he tries to sleep but finds it impossible and without even noticing he’s watching the wall ahead of him, staring at the brickwork and wondering if Daryl was toying with the charm on the necklace like he always used to. Probably not. Daryl was most likely sleeping, barely giving him a second thought and glad that he’d chosen his brother, his blood, his family over Shane. Of course he should be happy, he was safe in Woodbury, he had his brother and now there was no reason for him to be acting skittish around Merle or not to fully enjoy his life in Woodbury. Daryl would be happier there with Merle and he would be happy here with Rick, Carl and the new baby to help care for. They could live their separate lives this way and both of them could be happy.

It was stupid of him to over think this so much. Daryl was safe, he was safe and wasn’t that what they had both wanted? To be safe and reunited with their families to live out whatever remained of their lives that way? He should be happy, he’d found Rick, he’d found Lori’s baby and now he got to be a part of her life and though he could never make up for what he’d done to Lori, he could at least try to give her daughter everything he could. It was stupid of him to be thinking like this, as if it was going to change anything between them.

Curling up a little tighter he wraps his arms about himself, remembering how many nights he’d had a warm body to keep close and hold through the nightmares in their minds and roaming the world. The bunk feels smaller and he hates that, glaring at the wall in front of him and hating just how such a small area can have so much empty space in it for him to feel. His neck feels bare, his chest feels tight and he knows he’s not going to be able to get any sleep tonight.

He had made his choice and Daryl had made his too. Both of them had made the right one for themselves and that was that.

Only they hadn’t made the right choice for each other.


	21. Chapter 21

Daryl doesn’t know exactly how to explain it right now. He just feels hollow, empty, as if whatever it was that made him feel alive has been snuffed out of him. Curling up a little tighter he watches the wall before him, somehow able to feel every little bit of space left empty in the stupid single bed he had. Right now he feels alone, completely abandoned to deal with the world and all its problems by himself. It’s stupid, he’s stupid and shouldn’t be acting like this but he’s not sure how to make it all stop.

Sneaking back into Woodbury had been easy enough but he whole time he felt as if he was moving on autopilot, not really there at all as his body went through the motions. It was annoying because he knew he needed to focus, the smallest detail could ruin his plan, but he can’t seem to get his mind back on the task at hand. When he’d got back within the perimeter he’d felt the chain around his neck, the soft weight of the charm hitting his chest and he’d wrapped his fingers about it, running the pads of them over the well known charm. It shouldn’t mean so much.

Tucking the charm back beneath his shirt he’d made sure it was hidden, keeping it out of his sight and to himself, not needing the reminder of it all as he tried to do what needed to be done. The crossbow had felt more than right on his back, it felt like a part of himself, but it seemed this night was full of taking away things he wanted.

He’d moved through the empty streets as quickly as possible, sticking to the shadows even though the crowd were still at the arena, watching Merle make a spectacle of himself like the glory hog he was. It didn’t surprise him that his brother liked the attention of being the town’s lieutenant, when it came to that they were polar opposite, Merle centre stage and him on the sidelines. For now it was for the best, he didn’t want to be noticed if he could help it. Moving quickly he’d gotten to the Governor’s office, noting the chaos around the room as he’d gotten inside.

A mass of walker heads snap up at him, some of them have been put down but others were still writhing, their eyes bulging from their sockets as they watched him and snapping their jaws with a dry gurgle. It made him want to retreat, but there was no choice for that now. Beside the puddle of water there was a body, a little girl, her hair smooth and not matted like the other walkers usually was, she’s in some kind of crazy person jacket but she’s not moving. Daryl makes sure to take a cautious step around her and the puddle of water, making sure not to leave a trail to be followed of damp footprints.

The weapons cabinet is open, the glass on one side smoothly pushed aside whilst the other was smashed, a huge crack marring it forever. Michonne’s katana was gone, as was Shane’s shotgun and pistol, leaving the shelf that their weapons shared looking rather pathetic compared to the others. Stepping closer he hates the sinking feeling in his chest when he lifts the bow from his shoulders, feeling its reassuring weight in his hands and hating that he wasn’t going to feel it again for a while. Sure the Governor had promised it back to him today, but the man didn’t look like the kind to keep promises and he knew that his word could be taken back in an instant.

Still he carefully places his bow where it was before all of this, setting the strap on top of it and making sure it wasn’t set to fire. He hates this, it feels like leaving a part of himself behind but he knows it has to be done. If he was going to stay here for Merle then he had to be an innocent party in all of this, the Governor didn’t seem the type to take betrayal lightly and he didn’t want to put their residence here in jeopardy. The crossbow looks so wrong on the shelf, like nothing more than an ornament, the kind of thing people bought to look good on a side but never to be used. He hated that; weapons were made to be used, not as some stupid treasure to be admired from afar.

Stepping back he’s careful not to step in the water in the dim light, hissing a little when he realises that it’s tinted red with blood. He knows it’s not walker blood, their was black and clotted, this was fresh and red, bright and full of actual life until it had been spilled. Michonne hadn’t looked hurt, neither had Shane so that meant…

Closing the door behind himself he ignores the thought, refusing to believe that Shane had been stupid enough to cause anyone any harm before he’d left. There were no other bodies there; the little girl had definitely been a walker for a while so it had been someone else and the amount of blood meant it was something major. No body, lots of blood. Someone had been there, someone knew about Shane and Michonne and was probably running off to tell the Governor right now.

What could he do? He didn’t know who it was and besides even if he did what was his plan? Kidnap them? Hold them hostage? Or threaten them to keep their mouth quiet? It’s stupid, all he could do was pray that Shane hadn’t mentioned his name at all and they had no idea he’d been involved. Heck, he was still here, his bow was now locked back away so there was no evidence for him ever having left Woodbury. He was fine, he was safe, he’d covered his tracks well enough and no one would know anything.

They’d call Shane a traitor though and he’d have to go with it. He’d have to act shocked, lie for himself and Merle and act as if he hadn’t known a damned thing that had happened. As for the prisoners escaping…what prisoners? Who the hell was Glenn and Maggie? He didn’t have a clue, or if someone questioned his connection with them he could pass them off as people he’d known once but never gotten on with. Heck all it took was a racist remark or two and Merle over his shoulder and they’d believe he hated them easily enough. There was no way he’d ever try to help them escape.

He hadn’t returned to the fight, instead he’d headed back inside, tossing his bag at the foot of his bed and climbing in fully clothed, uncaring of making a state of his bedding. His fingers had found the necklace again, twisting the charm back and forth as he ran through the plan in his head. Just deny deny deny. Act innocent and bewildered about it all; call Shane a douche bag, Michonne a bitch and claim to have been at the fight. It was simple, what evidence did they have on him? Nothing, and besides, Merle would back him up anyway.

Daryl knew he had it all under control, there was no way anything could go wrong.

Things had already gone wrong enough tonight anyway. He doesn’t need to know the time to know how short a time it had taken for everything to get so fucked up. A couple of hours ago he’d been sitting here in this very spot, forming a plan for he and Shane to go away together, to get some time on their own and get Merle’s bike back, now here he was. Completely alone again. He was getting pretty fucking sick of people leaving.

Hitting at the wall he doesn’t stop until all he can focus on is the pain in his knuckles, knowing they’re scraped to hell and probably bleeding a little, bruised and sore, swollen from the injuries and something that he can actually deal with easily. Because pain was simple, wounds were easy and he knew how to deal with them, but this…this was too much. He weren’t good with this sort of shit and now he didn’t know how in the fuck he was meant to deal with it all.

One hand hits the wall, marring the perfect cream paint with a smear of his blood and he doesn’t care. Why should everything else in this fucking town get to be damned perfect but he couldn’t just have one good thing? It wasn’t like he ever asked for much before. He was used to getting by with nothing, so why did this fucking shitty world have to take the one thing he didn’t want to give up? It had been hard here with Merle around and everyone else too sure, but he was going to fix it, he was planning on getting around the problem somehow and yet now it seems the world had fixed it for him.

Smashing the other hand into the wall he doesn’t even flinch when the skin breaks, grunting a little at the effort as he pulls back the fist. It wasn’t like he’d meant for any of this shit to happen. He hadn’t meant to find Woodbury or for anything bad to happen to Glenn and Maggie but now somehow he was here having to pay for someone else’s mistakes. Why did Shane have to be such a fucking good guy anyway? This was all his fucking fault! He shouldn’t have been snooping, he shouldn’t have been so selfless as to want to save Glenn and Maggie and make him choose.

So what if they were going to lead Shane to his family, didn’t he mean anything to him? Weren’t people meant to want to stay together through the shit? But Shane had dragged him out there, never even given him a choice about it all, just dragged him out and got him all caught up in everything when he’d never asked for any of this shit! Now he was so mucked up and it was all the other man’s fault.

He’d had to choose Merle. Of course he had, Merle was his brother for God’s sake and Shane was just…Shane. It didn’t matter what he was because blood was blood and he’d had to choose it. What would he have left Merle here? And when the Governor found out he’d helped what then? He’d have taken revenge on Merle and he wasn’t going to do that to his brother. Shit why hadn’t Shane said anything? If he’d have said Glenn and Maggie were there maybe they could have done something, he could have spoken to Merle and gotten everything sorted out but instead he’d held his cards to his chest, everyone kept him out of the loop until the last second and now here he was alone again.

Gritting his teeth through the yell of anger he thumps his palm one last time against the wall, able to see the vibrations where he continues to stare at the blood marred paintwork. He never wanted to feel like this again, but Shane had promised as well as he could, he’d said he wouldn’t leave him and yet here he was; alone again. Abandoned. Unwanted. Not good enough for Shane to choose him.

Who was he kidding? Why would Shane have chosen him? He was nothing but a problem, a fucking redneck piece of shit that he’d gotten close to, whereas the prison held his baby. There was no way Daryl was more important than the man’s own flesh and blood, he knew that. Heck he’d chosen blood too.

The necklace feels heavy around his neck, like a cord slowly tightening, weighing down on him until he’s going to choke. Or maybe that’s the tightness in his chest when he tries to breathe without stuttering. He hates this. It’s not fucking fair. Toying with the 22 charm he doesn’t care that he feels like he’s going to choke, the weight in his chest gets heavier as he remembers the feeling of Shane’s fingers on the back of his neck and he knows it’s not the other man’s fault. There hadn’t been any other choice for him. For either of them. This was how it had to be.

Didn’t mean he has to like it though.

He’s startled from his thoughts by the door bursting open, making him jolt and scrabble to tuck the necklace back beneath his clothing, hiding it from view even if barely anyone would understand what it meant to him. Sitting up he finds Merle grinning at him, arms raised and bruises on his face from the fight. Was it really already over? The night was moving on, but he hadn’t thought it was that late. His brother kicks the door shut behind him, and Daryl watches his face, trying to read him and see if maybe the fight had ended early and they’d been found out.

“Where the hell were you baby brother? Didn’t see you out there ready to be tagged in when I was taking some hits.” Merle snorts, heading to their shared bathroom to splash water on his face, peering round the doorway to watch him.

Leaning back on his bed he barely looks at Merle, giving a lazy shrug as he answers. “I was there the whole time Merle.”

Merle snorts, drying himself off and coming to perch on the edge of his bed, shoving at him a little with that damned grin on his face. “Hell no you weren’t, I looked for you you know? Pretty sure I can pick your face out of a crowd by now Darylina.” His brother chuckles and Daryl moves to meet his eyes.

“Merle.” Catching his brother’s attention he speaks slowly and deliberately, fully aware that Merle would understand what he was getting at. This was something they both knew, how to cover each other’s asses. “I was there the whole night.” He reiterates, pausing to make sure his brother was actually listening to the words between the ones he was saying. “You saw me.”

“Did I now?” Merle mutters, not really questioning what he’s saying, but certainly making sure he understood what Daryl needed right now.

“The whole time.” He nods before slumping back to his pillows, feeling the way the charm hits against his chest a little at the movement.

His brother nods, giving a loose shrug of his shoulders before a firmer nod, as if he’s just been reminded of what actually had happened. Daryl’s glad that at least this part of his brother hasn’t changed, Merle could still read him like a book. “Every damned second.” Merle agrees, peering at him curiously. “Noticed you there every round baby brother, heard you cheering and calling me a pussy.”

“Exactly.” His cover story was solid, Merle would lie for him to the devil himself if he had to. It was a small reassurance but one all the same and he’ll take it right now when he was feeling so lost in himself.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on Darylina?” Merle asks and a part of himself wants to tell him everything. He wants to have someone else to talk to about all this shit and how he felt as if he’d been split in two and lost some huge part of himself that he’d been relying on. Instead he gives another shrug, turning to face the wall again and show his back to Merle. “Daryl?”

There’s nothing he can really say to him anyway. Merle wouldn’t understand and he was getting his little brother out of the shit as it was, Daryl didn’t need to add more stress on top of it all. Best Merle stays oblivious to the finer details of everything until he has to know, until they were safe and he wasn’t feeling so on edge all the time.

A slam of a door bouncing off the wall down the hall has him sitting up again, on edge already and his panic getting the best of him, making him flinch at the sudden noise. Merle notes his panic but doesn’t say anything, instead he just gives him the side eye as he hears more doors slam, there’s a panicked rush of footsteps down the hall and then a thudding at their door. Before it can open he’s grabbing Merle’s sleeve, jumping off the bed to stand beside him and his in his brother’s ear. “Remember, the whole night.”

Merle gives a grin, there’s no smile in his eyes though as he moves to the door, giving a chuckle as he opens it and acting as if they were in the middle of something and he wasn’t busy trying to cover his own ass. “Damn little brother you still ain’t got shit on my moves, gotta get you practising more.” He laughs as if they’re in the middle of a conversation, sometimes it scares Daryl that his brother can lie so seamlessly and he wonders how many of them he’s been on the receiving end of. “Milton? What the hell do you want? Ain’t it past your bedtime by now?”

The bespectacled prick doesn’t even react to the mocking, instead he pushes his glasses up his nose, seeming to fumble on his words and looking panicked as he speaks. “It’s the Governor, he needs you, now. Something’s happened, he’s injured, badly.”

“Well shit don’t just stand there man, lead the way.” Merle nudges at Milton’s side, rechecking the buckles on his bayonet before turning to look over his shoulder to Daryl. “Sorry Darylina, looks like I’ll have to kick your ass later.”

“Actually he wants to see both of you, immediately.”

That makes both he and Merle pause and for a second his heart feels like it’s stopped in his chest as he tries to breathe. Swallowing back the panic he gives a shrug, as if he’s got no idea why the hell the other man would possibly want to see him. They move quickly, Milton leading the way to the medical rooms they had and Daryl can’t help but stay close to Merle’s side, fully aware of the glances his brother kept giving him.

The nerves are knotting themselves inside his stomach, he can feel his fingers trembling a little so he clenches them into fists and then feels the ache of his bruised knuckles. Each step makes the charm of the necklace hit his chest and though he knows it means nothing to the rest of the world he’s terrified it’s going to be the evidence they need to link him to this act. It takes a lot for him to keep the mask of innocence, but he does his best, following Merle into the medical room and noting the armed man at the door.

The Governor sits on a bed, and whatever severe injury he’d been expecting to see, it wasn’t this. His eye is bandaged, the clean white of the medical gauze a stark contrast to the man’s dark hair. He wants to ask what the hell happened, but he doesn’t want to be any more noticeable than he was already. Things were snapping into place in his mind, the scene in the office, the blood in the water and he is suddenly very sure of who exactly was the person to see Shane and Michonne. He remembers the bloodstained arrow that Shane had handed to him with his crossbow.

“What the hell?” Merle asks, loud and confused, never liking being the one left in the dark and clearly ready for another fight.

“We’ve been betrayed.” The Governor snarls, pushing himself up from the bed to stand and suddenly Daryl is all too aware of how tall the other man is. “It seems the terrorists we captured had friends on the inside.” Terrorists? Maggie and Glenn? Really? This was truly was insane just like Shane had said. “They’ve escaped and the bastards who helped them were two of our own. They came to my office, they took their weapons and tried to kill me, I will not sit here and wait for them to attack us again.” He doesn’t shout, he just sounds so very cold and determined and Daryl is pretty certain it’s far scarier than if he had yelled. He remembers his father and how if the man was yelling you were safe, but when he got quiet you had to run for the hills.

“Tell me who.” Merle practically fucking growls and Daryl tenses a little beside him, not daring to look at his brother right now in case someone saw it for something it wasn’t. “I’ll find ‘em. Can’t have gotten far.”

“Michonne and Shane.” The Governor continues and beside him Milton shuffles in place, not looking too comfortable. Daryl knows the feeling but refuses to be so obvious about it. “She took something precious of mine and he took my eye. I want you to take a team Merle, get out there and find them before they get back to that prison and plan to attack us in return. I don’t want them left alive you understand?”

“I can do that, been wanting to stab that bastard ever since the fucking quarry.” Merle nods, already checking his holster and the ammo he had. When his eyes tilt up to meet his Daryl freezes a little, seeing the way Merle is piecing things together as well as he can with the information he’s got. “What about Daryl? I told you before he’s the best tracker out of the pair of us.” It’s a fair point, plus he would be able to lead them completely off course as well with only Merle knowing he was lying.

The Governor shakes his head, looking grim as he moves forward, still so confident even with only one eye working. “Shane will try to use their friendship to sway him” a hand reaches out to clap on his shoulder and Daryl makes sure he doesn’t flinch at it or look away from him. “I’m sorry Daryl but I cannot have you hesitate and let him get to you. He betrayed us, he betrayed you, I will not put you in the position of having to pull the trigger yourself.”

“I just…I can’t believe he’d do this.” Yes he can. He knows Shane, he knows exactly what the man was willing to do for the people he cares about and he remembers the way Tony and Dave’s bodies had fallen to the floor when he was the one in danger. It’s a miracle the Governor was still breathing at all, the prick should be grateful for that. “Tell me how I can help, I want to prove that I’m nothing like him. Woodbury is my home.” Because home was where family was and blood was blood, even if the place was a shithole, you stayed anyway.

“I know you’re not son.” The Governor doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even give a half smirk from the corner of his mouth, he just looks blank as he meets Daryl’s gaze with that one eye. It’s disconcerting, but he doesn’t let it show. “I promised you your crossbow and you’ll have it. With Merle gone I’ll need you to step up and fulfil his duties for me, can you do that?” The fingers squeeze on his shoulder, beyond friendly and to the point of hurting, but he refuses to flinch.

“Sure, anything I can do to help.” Anything he can do to play the good innocent victim in all of this. At least he’ll have his bow back and he had a chance of doing what needed to be done. He could do Merle’s job, prove his place and make sure that the Governor had no inkling of him being involved in the whole thing. This was good, this was workable. “I want to help.”

“I know you do son.” He hates being called son, but he doesn’t mention it, instead he nods to Merle, hoping his brother knows what he wants him to do. Shane and the others would be far gone by now, they’d had plenty of time to get to the prison, Merle just had to play the hard working lieutenant for now to keep him covered. “Merle take your team and get going, I don’t care that it’s dark, we can’t afford for this to get any further, I will do anything I need to keep this town safe.”

Daryl tries not to look too worried when Merle leaves, instead he does as he’s told and stays with the Governor, following him and noting the way Milton is chewing on his lower lip and won’t even look at him as they walk. The other man is weird that’s for sure, he seems even more socially inept than Daryl was, but he’d always been more than happy to ask him about anything and everything before, or to at least keep up a conversation. Now with the Governor stalking silently before them he finds himself uneasy at the other man’s avoidance and the quiet that surrounds them as they head for the warehouses.

Before now he’d always been warned away from them, but it seems his promotion had taken affect immediately. “What’s my first duty?” He asks, wanting answers, needing something to focus on and wondering why they hadn’t gone to the Governor’s office to get his bow first. There are no people down these hallways, there’s no life like the rest of Woodbury and he’s not sure exactly why they were down here. Maybe they had a decent weapons cache down here to secure?

The Governor smiles to him, the same greasy smile that Daryl saw when he spoke to the town’s people, the people he led along like sheep. Time for him to play his part and follow obediently. “I need you to come and tell me how they got out. Merle can track them on the outside but I need you to look at this room the terrorists were in and track how they got past the wall.” The request seems pretty straightforward, and it makes sense that the Governor would want to know about any other exits in his town. Nodding he follows the other man into the room.

It’s not what he expected at all. Shane had said Maggie and Glenn were separated, in separate rooms and he’d never said anything about this contraption. There’s some kind of dentist’s chair bolted to the floor, around it are trays full of equipment and Daryl’s pretty sure Glenn was only beaten with fists and a stump, not cut or hurt with any of these. The place smells like a hospital, too sterile and untouched, there’s no sign of anyone having come in here lately and he’s not sure if this is a test of his skill or his loyalty. Opening his mouth he’s about to question it when there’s footsteps behind him.

The blow is quick, the butt of a gun smashing to the back of his head and he’s down, falling to his knees with a cry and trying to get his bearings quick enough to retaliate. Fists hit at his face, someone kicks his side and he’s winded, collapsing in on himself and gasping for air. Fingers twist into his hair, yanking his head up and the Governor is smiling now, looking down at him and he can see Milton looking terrified behind him. Everything is blurry around the edges, dark and getting dimmer as he tries to focus on what’s happening.

“Like I said before Daryl.” The Governor croons to him, voice soothing, calming as if he was simply panicking and not trying to recover from some punches. “I will do anything to keep this town safe.”

The next hit brings darkness over him until there’s nothing at all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning: This chapter contains torture of a character, discussion of a canon attempted rape and homophobic slurs.

It’s hard to wake up properly. When Daryl finally groans himself awake there’s a fuzziness to his surroundings, an ache in his head and the memory of something not being right. The place smells clean, far too clean for the end of the world and when he tries to breathe in there’s a strip of fabric pulled taut between his teeth, restricting any words he wants to form. Breathing deeply through his nose he tries his best to focus, blinking bleary eyes, trying to shake his hair from his face and work out why he can’t move from his position.

His arms and legs are bound, leather cuffs over his wrists and ankles strapping him to the dentist’s chair he’d seen before and in a rush he remembers exactly where he is. Daryl can’t help but panic. He’s woken up in a lot of strange situations, but this was one that put him on edge immediately. Shifting as much as possible he tries to see around himself, wanting to gain as much knowledge about this place as he could, ready to make a plan, to find out how to escape and if there was anything that could help him.

A metal tray is propped up before him, out of his reach through he does strain forward to try, and he recognises the instruments from back on Hershel’s farm. The scalpels and saws are obvious in their uses and though the thought puts him on edge at least he knows what to expect. There’s some needles, knives, some kind of funnel and a cord of thin tubing that he’s not too sure he likes the look of. The worst thing of all was the last item, if only because he had no idea what the hell it was used for at all. It was metal, smooth in form and a reasonable size with and end that looked like it opened like a pair of scissors, widening the length up for whatever reason. Either way he didn’t like any of the items of the placing of them so close to him.

Arching back against the chair he tries to get some kind of leverage enough to get an arm free, wriggling himself back and forth, rocking the damned thing as much as he could even if it was bolted to the floor. He barely gets any give from the thing and ends up snarling against the fabric in his mouth, champing at the gag and hating that he’s breathing so heavily. Panic wouldn’t help anybody, but he can’t help himself.

He’s alone and completely reliant upon himself, not that the feeling was unusual, he just didn’t think he had the skills to save himself this time. Slumping back against the chair he huffs to himself, trying to ease his breathing, wanting to get back some form of control over himself.

Merle was gone, sent out of the town they’d been living in and no help to him now. Shane was completely out of his life now, never to return and not someone he could rely on for help. That exhausted the list of people he’d ever trusted in, and that left him on his own.

The Governor knew. Somehow he’d just known that he’d been involved and now he was going to pay for his betrayal. It wasn’t fair, he’d made the right choice and now he was going to pay for doing the right thing. Shane was right, the Governor was insane, for Christ’s sake he was tied to a chair and looking at the instruments that would probably be his ending.

When the door opens he tries not to react, sitting still but unable to help his eyes from following the Governor around the room as he paces. The door shuts with a click behind him, he’s still breathing heavily and he can almost smell the quiet anger on the man as he paces before him. He never exactly felt comfortable around the other man, but right now he’s as on edge as he’s ever been.

“You’re awake. Good, that’s good.” The Governor smiles, pulling over a chair and seating himself before him, directly in his gaze and watching him closely, as if he were the most interesting thing on the world. Daryl’s never liked being the centre of attention and he can’t help the knot of anxiety that doubles in his stomach at the feeling of being stared at.

The silence that surrounds them for a moment is uncomfortable and he focuses on feeling the leather straps over his wrist, wanting to see if there was anyway he could ease them loose a little more. It takes his mind off the staring at least but he can hear the Governor give a small chuckle at his antics. Glaring at him he snorts a little from behind the gag, sneering and wanting him to get pissed off. Anger was easy to deal with, he was used to that, but this quietness was just too unnerving.

The other man moves, bringing a hip flask out from his pocket and shaking it a little so Daryl can hear the sound of liquid slosh about inside. “Would you like a drink at all?” The Governor offers and he glares, wanting to tell him exactly where to shove it. “No? Maybe later then.” He watches as he takes a swallow himself, screwing back on the silver cap before replacing it in his breast pocket before continuing, almost as if these were the formalities before the start of a meeting.

“Now Daryl, I brought you here to talk a little.” The Governor explains and fuck Daryl wants to punch that calm look off his face. “See, I’ve spent the last few hours thinking and thinking and I just can’t figure out exactly why you chose to betray us.”

Good. He doesn’t want him knowing anything about him. This man didn’t deserve to know him at all, that was something only certain people got. Merle because he’d fucking been there and it was hard not to know someone you almost raised and Shane because, he’d fucking wanted Shane to know. Maybe he hadn’t told him everything, but Shane knew him, he knew Shane and if this fucker had any idea of the kind of people they really were then he wouldn’t even have to ask about why they did what they did.

They did it because it was right. Because despite everything they’d been through they were still people with rules they stuck to. Sure sometimes things got a bit fucking confusing, but they knew right and wrong, they knew good and bad people and they knew what had to be done. Even if it was hard, they made the right choices last night.

“Were we not nice enough to you? Taking you in, giving you food, water, shelter, safety from the world outside.” The Governor asks, running a hand over his hair and acting as if he’s scolding a child rather than interrogating a grown man. “That can’t be it, I know you’ve been well cared for.” He answers his own question, and Daryl finds himself uncaring of the conversation if he’s not a real part of it.

All his life people had spoken at him instead of to him, sometimes acting as if he wasn’t even there and carrying on a conversation over his head. He was used to it, so it’s not hard to let the Governor continue talking to himself, Daryl doesn’t even bother looking up until a familiar name is mentioned.

“Was it Merle then?” And there’s a smirk on his damned one eyed face when he continues. “Some kind of sibling rivalry blown out of proportion? We can all see the way you look up to him, is it a younger brother complex? Wanting what he has and then when you can’t, you take it all away from him too?” Daryl growls at that, the thought of the Governor even thinking he knows a single thing about his and Merle’s relationship makes him want to fucking snap, but the straps keep him down.

When the Governor stands he keeps an eye on him, watching as the man steps close to him, getting in his personal space easily. He’s on edge, he’s always on edge when people get close and when the Governor reaches out to pick up a scalpel and spins it in his fingers Daryl feels a shiver head down his spine. Another follows close behind as the Governor continues.

“Did you always want to be like your brother?” He asks, stepping to Daryl’s right hand side and trailing the blade of the scalpel over his forearm. Tensing a little he watches as the blade skates over his skin, weaving between the hairs there and just promising more to come. Breathing heavily through his nose he glances up to the Governor, hating the smile he sees on his face. “You know I had a brother before all of this, I idolised him, wanted to follow in his footsteps and be the kind of man he was. Never got the chance.”

Daryl listens but he’s focussed on the scalpel on his arm, able to feel his heartbeat pick up the pace as the blade scrapes a little harder over him. He’s ready for it when it happens but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less when the blade digs in. Gripping the fabric between his teeth he refuses to scream, dragging his gaze away from the point of pain and trying to ignore the slow dig of the blade separating his flesh. Blood trickles down his wrist, his arm feels on fire and he can almost feel the Governor’s grin on him when the scalpel is dragged away.

It’s placed back on the tray, bloodstained tip soaking into the blue clothes beneath it and Daryl takes the second of reprieve to check the wound. It’s deep, really damned deep, a couple of inches long across his forearm and fuck he knows he’s going to need stitches and soon.

“It’s a small start, but I’m sure we can make you just like Merle if we try hard enough.” The Governor almost purrs, stepping back in front of him with a smile. Daryl shivers as a hand comes up to cup his cheek, a thumb stroking beneath his eye as he flinches back.

“Oh yes, Merle will not be returning to Woodbury as you may have already guessed.” The Governor continues, not stopping in petting at him, running his fingers over his cheek, up to his hair and fuck he wants him off. “His little hunting mission was more of an execution if I’m honest. He was in the military, it seemed only fitting for him to die by firing squad.”

And fuck Daryl can feel something more painful than the wound on his arm open up inside of him.

“Sorry about that, but I do what has to be done and Merle…Merle was a problem waiting to happen. He was only going to get worse once he found out what I was going to do to you.” And he shrugs, he fucking pulls back enough to shrug at him in some bullshit fake apology and it makes him snarl from behind the gag. “I know where his loyalties lie, and they’re not with me or Woodbury, much the same as you Daryl.”

Blood drips to the floor beneath him, his struggles making his arm sting in pain, but he can’t even think about it right now, not when he’s so fucking angry. He wants to kill the man before him. Before all of this he’d never thought he’d be able to kill another person, let alone want to do it, but right now he does. He wants to hurt him so much, he wants to make him pay and cry and scream, and pluck out his other eye so he could be even.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know you helped?” The Governor asks and despite his struggling the hand that reaches up to cup his face is steady, keeping him in place and watching him hiss like an angry cat, uncaring of his own wounds. “Clearly, otherwise you would have run when you had the chance.” The man sighs, pushing him back, stepping back towards the tray of items and snatching something up.

Daryl squirms again, not wanting the cut made any bigger, not wanting to lose his dominant hand or the feeling in it or having any damage. When the Governor steps closer he braces himself glaring, teeth clenched tightly, jaw tense around the rag and ready to hold back the screams.

“How about that drink?” The Governor asks and again he huffs, not wanting to answer, not wanting anything from this man at all. His lack of an answer isn’t good enough and he flinches when a hand grabs at his hair, fisting it easily and yanking his head back. He pinches his mouth as closed as possible, but something is shoved in beside the gag, rammed down his throat, making him gag, hitting the back of his throat and he can’t close his mouth to stop it as it’s shoved down despite his retching.

His eyes water as he’s kept in place, the funnel above him held steady as the Governor pours the contents of the hipflask down it, the liquid bypassing his taste buds and falling straight down his throat. It’s an awful sensation, managing to drink without giving his permission and instantly he’s squirming wanting the funnel out of his mouth and his throat. He can feel the liquid pooling in his stomach and as soon as the gag is wriggled down from his mouth and the funnel removed he’s coughing, choking on the feeling and hating how raw his throat feels from the violation.

Gasping for air he tries to calm himself, but his entire body quivers, feeling sick, feeling used and hating the smile the Governor has still on his face. Angry with himself and the man before him he grits his teeth again, coughing the last traces of drool from his mouth and glaring up at him. “You hurt Glenn and Maggie.” He snarls, still choking every so often on the rawness left from the funnel and tubing.

“Yes I did.” The Governor admits, placing the funnel back on the tray and moving to watch him again. “They were in our territory when my men found them, hostile and they attacked us. Naturally my men defended themselves and brought them here to be questioned. See we take in people just fine when they’re suitable, but you could see they weren’t, they were hardened, dangerous and all it took was a bit of persuasion and they were telling us all about their group and the prison.”

Giving a dry laugh he watches the Governor pace, a small smirk on his lips. “You fell for that huh? You fucking moron, they lied to you, idiot.” He’s never been that good of a liar, but if it’ll give the others a chance he’ll try.

The Governor sighs, shaking his head almost to himself, looking almost disappointed with him. “No, but you are lying to me now and I do not like liars Daryl.” He reprimands him and suddenly the man isn’t smiling anymore.

He flinches back but it’s no use, the fist hits him easily since he can’t dodge it and Daryl can feel the ache in his jaw already. There’s no time for him to groan in pain as more fists reign down on him, smacks to his face, his side, a glancing blow to his chest, a kick to his stomach and Daryl knows he’s going to be aching all over. His body wants to curl in on itself for protection but the straps prevent him and he’s made to sit there and take every hit.

Gasping for air he knows his side is fucked, the ache settling in to his very bones as his ribs are attacked. Sitting straight hurts and he tries to slump, but the punches just move to his face again and he can taste blood in his mouth when the Governor finally draws back.

Daryl can feel his eye start to swell up, he knows the wound on his arm is bleeding more and he can’t stop the small grunt of pain he releases. Before him the Governor retakes his seat with a sigh, cleaning his knuckles, running his fingers through his hair and running his tongue over his lips as he settles before talking.

“Now where were we? Ah yes, see your brother, he was more than happy to help out. Beat the Asian kid to within an inch of his life, but it wasn’t until I got to play with the farm girl that we got what we needed.” The bastard smirks, watching as he flinches and leaning up to take the item he didn’t recognise from the tray of instruments. “Would you like to know how she felt? Pressed down on the table, completely bare to me, crying?” He asks and Daryl squeezes his eyes shut to try and get rid of the images that run through his head.

Maggie screaming. Maggie crying. Maggie forced beneath this bastard.

“Stop it!” He yells, spitting a mouthful of blood at the other man, sneering when it hits his shoe and wishing that looks could kill. If he’d had any doubt before it was gone now, they’d done the right thing. Shane had been right, Shane had been right about everything and he should have fucking listened. He should have just told him to wait and gone back to get Merle, he could have fixed it and now here he was with no one coming to help him.

Again the Governor laughs and Daryl peers up from beneath his hair to see him playing with the instrument. He’s holding them like a pair of scissors, opening and closing his fingers and Daryl watches as the metal shaft of the object widens and shrinks at his manipulations. A sweeping nausea runs through him when he realises it’s a speculum. “No that’s right, it’s not your thing is it?” The Governor smirks, pointing the tool at between his legs and opening it again.

He blushes, he squirms and he fucking hates that this asshole knows something so intimate about him. It wasn’t his to know, it wasn’t his to make fun of and try to mock him with. Every part of himself wants to fucking kill him and make him pay for everything he’s done to all of them.

“You’re disgusting!” He snarls, yelling to the ceiling and uncaring that his voice echoes around them in the almost empty room. The man went and hurt people he knew, because of him Merle was dead and Shane had left him. It was the Governor’s fault that it had all gone wrong and he hates him so much for putting him in this situation. “You’re fucking disgusting you piece of shit. Let me out of here! Fight me like a real man!”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you Daryl? Having another man to press against, to wrestle with on the floor.” The Governor smirks, not scowling, not even angry, but looking so fucking amused it makes all the hatred he feels burn brighter. “Why don’t you tell me all about you and Shane? I’d love to hear exactly how the two of you came to be together, Merle said you couldn’t stand each other at the quarry.”

“Ain’t none of your concern!” He spits, because what good was denying it going to do? The Governor knew what buttons to press, and he hates that he’s so easy to read sometimes.

“And now he’s gone. Left you behind just like that. I know you helped them, otherwise your boyfriend wouldn’t have taken your bow with him after blinding me.” The other man smirks again, standing, taking up the scalpel and moving to his right side again. The wound on his arm aches and Daryl can feel the anxiety build up at the thought of more being added to it. “Wasn’t it sweet of you to return it? You can imagine how surprised I was when I found it back in my office.”

The blade descends again and Daryl hates his own stupidity. He hadn’t known, if he’d have known it was the Governor that had been in there he would never have tried to get away with it. He would have found a way to get Merle and get out. Now his brother was dead and the prison was going to be attacked all because of him. Pain bounds up his arm and he watches with a cry as the Governor adds another cut to his arm, still in line with the previous one but smaller, leaving his arm looking like a bloody dotted line was moving around it. He got the joke. Cut here.

“The thing is Daryl if you had come and told me after returning we could have gotten along just fine.” The Governor sighs, adding a third gash, continuing the line around his forearm. “But you tried to hide it, you kept it all to yourself and well that’s not playing for the team is it?”

His body is trembling, small shakes that run up and down his skin as he watches the blood pool beneath his arm. Daryl shakes his head, teeth clenched to keep back the groans of pain and trying to think of anyway to help. There was nothing he could do for himself, that much was clear, but there were others out there. The prison, the group, Shane…

“Please.” Daryl’s voice is low, all the anger faded from it as he at least tries to do this one thing right. He’s never been too proud to beg, not when it actually meant something and for once he had something worth begging for. “Take what you want from me but leave the prison alone.” Because they didn’t deserve to pay for his mistakes, his bad choices, his stupid inability to do anything right. “They have a baby.”

The Governor moves forward again, grabbing at his face, fingers digging in to his cheeks and for the first real time since this all began he can see the rage in his eye. “That is none of my concern.” He snarls and Daryl winces when fingernails begin to dig into his skin, crushing the bruising and making his very bones ache in pain. “They are a threat to Woodbury, to the rest of my people and I will not sit idly by whilst-“

There’s a bang, the door crashes open, smashing against the wall behind it but it’s the hissing sound that catches his attention. The smoke bomb fills the air, making him choke with his already sore throat and he presses back against the chair, trying to pull back from the Governor and feeling a little relieved when the fingers fall from his face. Burying his mouth and nose in his shoulder as well as he can he can hear the Governor yelling between coughs but the room is filled and he can’t see a damned thing.

“What is the meaning of this? Who’s there? I thought I told you to-“

Beside him comes a dull thunk and something heavy falls to the floor next to the chair, cutting off the Governor’s words and leaving him wanting desperately to know what the hell was going on. Pulling at his restraints he gasps at the pain, inhaling a lungful of smoke and cursing his stupidity as he chokes again, drawing attention to himself when the attacker was unknown. Something moves beside him, a hand scrabbles at the leather cuffs over his legs and he immediately kicks out when one leg is free.

“Quit your wriggling dumbass!” And Daryl finds himself choking again when he recognises the voice through the smoke. Fingers work at his other restraints, yanking them loose before grabbing at his shirt, tugging him to his feet and as the smoke begins to thin he finds himself face to face with a scowling Merle. He wants to hug him or some equally pussy type shit, but there’s no time and in a second his brother is sneering at him and shoving something heavy at his chest. “Take this and get moving, we’re leaving little brother, right now.”

His fingers curl about his crossbow, grateful to have the familiar weight of it in his arms again even if his right arm is aching like hell. There’s no time to complain or ask questions though and Merle is shoving him out of the door, pushing him face first into an armed and scared looking Milton.

“Is he alive?” The bespectacled man asks and Daryl finds the rifle pointed at his chest, barely an inch from his body as Merle reaches forward to shove it away.

“Your Governor is fine just like I promised, now move it Miltie before I change my mind.” Merle snarls, grabbing Daryl’s upper arm and steering him away down the hall, through the darkened shadows and Daryl doesn’t ask, he just goes where he’s pushed.

Merle moves ahead, keeping him close as he moves through the back alleys of the town, through places Daryl didn’t know about until they’re besides the wall. There is no sound of anyone on the attack so he figures the guards had been distracted somehow. A pack is shoved at him and he slips it on, biting at his lip when his arm brushes past the straps and trying not to groan when he has to hunch to accommodate for the aches blazing down his side. They move fast, Merle nodding to him, giving signals they both know like the back of their hands and leading him out through a window of a broken down house, out into the woods and to freedom.

They run for a while, or Merle runs before he realises that Daryl can’t keep up with his injuries and they half jog, half stumble away for a while. Neither of them speak, too busy panting for air and Daryl can feel the scrape in his throat with every breath, aches running rife down his body, blood staining his arm and shirt and his mind is completely lost in all of this. When they’re a decent distance away from the town he pauses, reaching out to grab at Merle’s sleeve, making his brother pause and he takes the moment to rest his forehead on his shoulder.

For just a moment he lets it all get to him, the fear, the upset, the anger, the worry and the fucking relief that Merle was alive. He’d been so sure that Merle was dead, the Governor sounded so damned certain and he knew Merle was good but a firing squad? What good would Merle have had against a load of guns? Yet here he was, his brother was here and alive and he’d saved him, he’d come back to the town that wanted him dead and fucking risked his life for him.

“He said you were dead.” Daryl mumbles into Merle’s shoulder, able to hear Merle’s grunt and feel the shrug of a reply. They weren’t good at this shit, but he knows Merle is relieved to see him too even if he doesn’t say anything. The fact his brother is staying still to let him rest and feel how alive he still is was enough for him. Eventually though Merle is shoving at him, nodding for them to move on and he’s following, pushing past the moment of weakness and letting things with Merle fall back into the same way they’ve always been. Merle leading; him following.

“Tried his best to make it so little brother, but I knew that bastard was up to something. Just didn’t think he’d do something like this shit.” Merle huffs, trailing them a path away from the walked paths and down towards the river, a landmark Daryl knew from the maps he’d been studying and giving him his bearings out here. Shouldering his bow for a minute he removes the gag from where it had been shoved around his neck, feeling the familiar coolness of the metal chain there as he crouches to dip the rag in the water.

Taking the damp cloth he presses it against the wounds on his arms, hissing at the pain but knowing he needed to wash away the blood, even if it was river water. Still was better than having walkers drawn to them and he didn’t want an open wound out here. “Fucker wanted me to pay, wanted to know why I betrayed him.”

Merle snatches the rag from his hand, folding it long ways before tying it around his arm, covering the wounds as best they could for the moment and leaving Daryl wincing at the added pressure. “He ain’t the only one been wondering about that.” His brother mutters and really Daryl doesn’t want to do this right now, not when he hurts all over enough as it is.

Giving a loose shrug he begins checking his ribs, glad to find nothing broken, but able to imagine the bright colours that would be blooming over his sides. He could deal with bruises easily enough though. “Don’t matter now Merle.” Daryl replies, checking on his bow before standing, glancing at the sun’s position above the river and working out which way to head. “We’ve got to get moving.”

“I nearly get my ass fucking shot, you get cut and beat and you don’t think it matters?” Merle snorts, placing his feet firmly where they stand and not looking to want to move anytime soon. “Boy I want a fucking reason.” And like that Merle is demanding again, pissed off at their situation and expecting him to roll over for him so easily.

He loves his brother, he really does but sometimes he just didn’t fucking understand him. How could Daryl think of helping two people, two live human beings out of a situation where they would have been severely hurt, raped or even killed? Sometimes he wondered if he knew his brother at all. Frustrated with Merle’s insistence to dwell on it he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes and letting him self feel the anger now the adrenaline rush had died down. “Because it was the right thing to do Merle! Fuck he had Maggie and Glenn prisoner and you decide heck might as well beat them for him? Of course I helped get them out, but I came back didn’t I?” He points out, mad at Merle, mad at the world, mad at everything he’s fucking lost and the problems he’s caused over all of it. “I came back for you!” He shouts, hearing the few birds above them squawk in fright at his raised voice and take off.

It’s dangerous, they should be quiet in case of any walkers or anyone looking for them, but he’s started it and as usual Merle won’t stop until it’s finished.

“That little shit left me on a roof cuffed to a pipe!” His brother snarls, getting in his face, shoving at him despite his injuries and shoving the metal covered stump at him when he dares to winch at the pain. “He’s one of the reasons I lost my hand!” Because of course Merle’s had it worse, Merle’s always had it fucking worse and Daryl was just a pussy.

Something snaps and he’s shoving back, uncaring of their situation in the middle of nowhere with barely any weapons. “No you lost your hand because you’re a simple minded sack of shit that was so high he couldn’t think straight long enough to work out the door was chained!” He yells, everything that’s been building up over the past few months coming out. Why didn’t Merle just wait? Why didn’t he trust him? Why had he fucking left him again? “We came back for you Merle! I always come back for you!”

And that’s the fucking truth isn’t it? Merle is glaring at him, he’s scowling back, panting, throat raw and hurting from the abuse of the day and fuck he hates this.

That was the difference between the two of them when it came down to it. Merle always left for some stupid fucking reason and Daryl always always went to find him. Each time it happened he let him back in with open arms, as if nothing had changed but this is different, this is now and the whole fucking world has changed and him along with it.

“Even though I knew it would be dangerous, and you’d be pissed and,” Shane had left, “everything else, I still came back for you.” He snarls, shoving one last time at his brother and not surprised when Merle hits back. He stumbles but doesn’t care when the pain in his body makes him fall back, landing on his rear on the floor with an oomph and just resting there and moment to catch his breath.

Merle is quiet and he appreciates that, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck and able to feel the chain of the necklace resting there. He takes a moment to drag his fingers down it, feeling the light weight of the charm and twisting it between his fingers as he calms down. It’s been a fucking rough day and now on top of everything else he had Merle back from the dead but still yelling at him. Sighing a little he runs his free hand over his face, rubbing over bruises and wincing at the feel of everything in his body aching.

He’s just so tired right now and he wasn’t going to get any rest anytime soon either. There were miles to walk until safety and he knew he might as well broach the subject whilst Merle was already pissed at him. “We should head for the prison, they’ll take us in.”

There’s a snort and Merle kicks at the floor, hand on his hip and pointing his stump at him with a fucking grin. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His face clouds over and Daryl’s sighing, watching as Merle remembers all the ties he’s already broken with the new group. “I damned near killed that Asian kid, Officer Friendly hates my guts and you think they’re going to greet me with open arms?” Merle laughs, kicking at the fallen leaves and shaking his head.

Sighing a little he remains on the ground, trying to rest whilst he could and letting the weight of the twenty-two charm take his mind off how difficult Merle could be sometimes. It’s soothing, it’s a habit he’s gotten used to over the past few months and for just a second there’s a leap in his chest at the thought of what awaited him at the prison. “You’ve got one hand and I’m fucking injured Merle, you wanna take a guess on our chances out here alone?” He points out, gesturing to himself and wincing when his side flares in pain at the sudden movement.

His brother paces back and forth a while, the sound of his boots on the ground the only other noise other than the running of the current in the river behind them. Daryl gives him time, hoping for Merle to give in for once and see that it was the only option for them left.

“This is about that cop isn’t it?” Daryl’s head snaps up at that, watching his brother and noting the way he looks just as pissed as before, if not more so. “You couldn’t do it before but now you wanna go running back to him like a little bitch.” Merle sneers, shaking his head like he’s worked it all out and in a second Daryl is on his feet, uncaring of the pain and standing up to his brother.

“I ain’t no one’s bitch Merle!” He snaps and Merle is laughing, sneering and shoving at his shoulder.

“Don’t play dumb with me boy, I saw you together.” Merle sneers and Daryl can feel the second his stomach drops to his feet. Everything he’d been trying so hard to keep hidden was out in the open when he was already wounded physically. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t know you’ve been giving it up to him for months now like a pussy?”

Shaking his head he hates that the mention of his relationship with Shane is enough to get him on edge. Fingers shaking a little at his shoves at Merle, feeling sick that two very separate corners of his life have collided so viciously and gotten him wedged in the middle of it. “Fuck off Merle I ain’t no pussy!” He yells, the world quiet around them aside from the sound of water running through the river behind him.

“No?” Merle snarls, glances to his chest and before Daryl can protest he’s reaching out his hand to wrap his fingers around the necklace. With a yank of Merle’s arm the chain snaps, leaving the charm in his fist and the loose ends dangling from it. “Then what’s this Darylina? Wearing your boyfriend’s jewellery now?” His brother taunts him.

He moves quick, hating that he winces at the pain and immediately tries to grab his brother’s hand, snatching at the air around it and snarling when Merle lifts it above his head in a childish game of keep away. “Merle don’t!” Daryl knows his voice breaks on the words and he’s not so sure it’s from the abuse. Merle is in his face, watching him as he tries to grab it, like this is a game and not so much more to him. “It’s not mine, it’s Shane’s. Merle, please!” And for the second time today he’s begging, pleading for someone to just listen to him for once in his life. “Please Merle!”

“You think I’m following you back to that prison just so you can go ride some cop like a whore and you are sorely mistaken boy.” Daryl wants to explain, he wants to compare it to when Merle was in prison and had to take what he could get. He wants to tell Merle that Shane means nothing and was just a fuck to get by, but he knows it’s a lie and he’d never been any good at lying to Merle.

Grabbing at his brother’s sleeves he tries one last time, meeting his eyes and really praying that for just once in his life Merle would actually listen to him properly. “Merle please, just give it back.”

There’s a pause. It’s probably the longest pause of his life and Daryl thinks he can see the second Merle makes his choice. There’s a flicker in his eyes and then his face is hardening and before Daryl can react Merle’s arm is stretching back behind him before he tosses the necklace over his head. He can’t move quick enough to see it in the air, but he sees it hit the water, causing a small ripple in the middle of the river as the necklace sinks beneath the surface in seconds.

It’s gone. The river is too deep, the current too strong and he just knows the necklace is lost forever.

His one link to Shane in this crapsack world tossed away as if it meant nothing to him. Pulling away from Merle he stands on the bank of the river, watching the tiny ripples filter out and away, leaving no sign of the surface ever being disturbed by something that meant so much to him.

“There, now you can forget all about him and get your ass moving. Ain’t no brother of mine gonna be a damned queer.”

The crossbow is in his hands before he even knows it and is pointed at Merle, he can feel himself shaking all over and whether it’s from the stress or the anger he’s no sure. But right now he hates Merle and he doesn’t want to be here, with him any longer. Merle doesn’t look worried, just stunned, standing before him like an idiot and even reaching out to tilt the aim away from himself. Before he loses his nerve Daryl kicks him back, turning on his heel with a snarl and biting back any sound of pain as he starts heading towards the prison.

“Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Merle calls and he pauses to glare at him once more.

“Back where I belong.” He snarls, hating how emotional he is but knowing it’s for good cause. Right now he feels broken in two, half wanting one thing, half another but he’d already chosen one way and look where it had gotten him. Now was the time to choose the other option. “You know, I thought you were different Merle, I thought you actually gave a shit about me.” Daryl says, voice low, no shouting, just words that he’s always thought finally being spoken.

Merle scoffs, as if this is all a joke and Daryl fucking hates that. “Course I care baby brother.”

“No!” He snaps, calm gone, needing to be heard just once. “That’s just it Merle, you just care how I make you look! You don’t give a shit about what I want or about what I might actually care about. Instead it’s all about being what you want.” Running his fingers through his hair he moves to grasp the bow tighter, hand running over his neck briefly and feeling the absence of a familiar chain. “Well fuck you. You sound just like he did.” He mutters but he knows Merle hears.

“I ain’t nothing like him!” His brother calls back, the distance between them growing with every step Daryl takes and here he was, being abandoned by his brother yet again. It hurts, like a yawning chasm between them, but each step away from one part of his life is closer towards another part and though it hurts, he knows he’s finally making the right choice.

“That’s exactly what he was like!” He snaps back and he can see Merle falter a little at his words. Good, let him feel what it was like to be abandoned, to be alone and lost without anyone else there but yourself. Let him feel that pain and know that he brought it upon himself. Taking one last look at his brother he carries on walking, leaves crunching underfoot as he limps his way towards the prison. “And if you don’t like me the way I am then fine, because I know where someone is who does want me, no matter what.”


	23. Chapter 23

“I’m so sorry.”

The world is strangely calm around him as he sits on the ground, the grass before him is disturbed, rough and mixed with soil, marking out the gravesite that is before him. Shane doesn’t know what’s brought him here today. Maybe it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the loneliness, maybe it’s because he can see how broken Rick is over all of this and he just needs to be away from him for a while. Either way he’s here and he’s not exactly sure where to begin.

There’s a breeze in the air today. The sun beats down on him as usual, far too hot to be comfortable and he can see the bugs flying about in the air around him as he sits. The wooden cross before him is crooked, reminding him of one they’d left beneath a tree on a hill so long ago to look over an abandoned farm. It still aches to think of it, but over time the aches get easier to bear.

They’ve all lost so many to this world. Dale, T-Dog, Hershel had spoken to him about losing Patricia and Jimmy, and Christ he can see that the pain inside of them all has gotten to a bearable level. Not for Rick though, not when it comes to Lori. His friend is torn up inside and he knows that he’s breaking apart. There’s a crack right down Rick’s middle and he’s desperate for something, for answers, for forgiveness or maybe for something else entirely.

He doesn’t know her last words, he doesn’t know how Lori felt about him, or the baby or Rick or anything else, but he knew she deserved to at least hear this from him.

“I’m not sorry for loving you.” He explains, picking at the tufts of grass before him, focussing on them instead of the wooden cross. “I know I probably should be because of all the crap that happened between us afterwards, but I’m not sorry for it. Because I did love you Lori, I wanted you for my own and I wanted to be everything I could for you.”

After losing Rick and everything else that had happened in those first few days of the outbreak, he’d needed something to hang on to. They’d been there, both Lori and Carl and somehow through it all she’d clung to him, he’d held her and it had happened. Maybe it was fucked up and wrong, but it helped them both and when their world was falling apart around them who were they to deny the one thing that made them feel sane?

He didn’t blame her, he didn’t blame himself either. Really it had all just been bad timing, too much stress and a way to handle an unknown situation. As much as Lori and Carl had kept him thinking straight he knows if it weren’t for him dragging them to safety then they wouldn’t have made it as far as they did. Lori had fallen apart over the months of Rick being in a coma, and if he hadn’t been there to get her out he knows she would have sat and waited for death to come get her. Now here he was, sitting beside her grave anyway, as if none of it had ever mattered.

“Didn’t exactly work out right did it?” Shane points out, giving a sigh as he thinks it all over.

Thing is maybe it didn’t feel like it mattered to him that Lori had still died anyway, but it wasn’t all for nothing. Rick was still around and Christ he can’t imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t kept Lori safe. The man would have been gone much sooner than this. Carl was still alive and getting stronger, learning to cope with this world and digging his feet in harder to stick through it. And of course there was the one thing that Lori had gone and sacrificed herself for still left.

“I’m not sorry for the baby.” Because he could never ever regret her. “Heck she’s beautiful Lori. She’s got your eyes and she’s just the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” And he hopes that she does end up looking exactly like Lori and not like either he or Rick. Maybe it would be better for Judith and the pair of them if she just remained Lori’s daughter and the unspoken issue of her biological father went unmentioned. He could take that, he could be an uncle to his possible daughter if he needed to be. “I am sorry I put you through pregnancy though, and I know you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want, but still…”

It was still the reason she wasn’t here now. He doesn’t know why she made that choice to carry the baby to term, especially when with the world the way it is and the knowledge that she hadn’t been able to give birth naturally the first time. But he’d never had the time to ask her, she’d only just discovered her pregnancy herself when he went and got separated from them.

“I’m sorry she ain’t never gonna meet her momma. I’m sorry you ain’t never gonna get to hold her or teach her about boys, or dress her up and do her hair like I know you always wanted.” He remembers when she’d been pregnant with Carl and dreaming of her baby before she knew the sex. Imagining little pink dresses and getting to have the prettiest little girl in the world to play with. Her excitement hadn’t diminished when she’d found out she was expecting a boy, it had just diverted to thinking of tiny sailor outfits and playing cops with him.

Lori may not have been perfect, but she was certainly something and something he’d never forget.

“I’m sorry that after everything that happened, I didn’t get to make it all up to you.” He tells the cross, wiping at his eyes and sniffing back the tears he doesn’t want to fall. “The world ain’t fair Lori. It weren’t fair before now and it’s only gone and gotten worse.” Shane points out, huffing a little and thinking back on all the shit they’d all had to go through to here to where they are now, relatively safe inside the prison fences.

“But I’m here now. After all of the shit, I’m here and I want you to know that.” He feels it’s important to let her know that he’s not the same man who stormed off into the woods that day with Daryl, angry with her, stressed and too caught up in his own emotions to care about anyone else. Things had changed now and over the last few months he likes to think that he’s grown as a person, become better, or at least got his damned head screwed on right.

“I ain’t holding no grudges against your little girl. Or against Rick for anything that might have happened between us.” Shane makes sure to reassure her, reaching out to place a hand over the disturbed earth, almost as if he were reaching out to set it upon her knee. “It weren’t right what happened between us. I mean I don’t regret it, I just regret how I handled it.” He’d been one arrogant asshole back then, but the world had a way of making you grateful for what you had and he’d come to learn that lesson.

“I know now you weren’t mine, you never was. Heck Lori you weren’t no one’s but you own and I should have respected that, should have respected your choices and let you and Rick patch everything up. There ain’t much good left in this world, but you two together? That was good and I’m sorry I didn’t see it soon enough.” Again he wipes at his eyes, remembering their wedding, remembering being Rick’s best man and the cheesy grin he’d been forced to make in every picture. Theirs lives before were gone, so different from how it was now and he hates that it can’t ever be that easy again.

“I’m gonna be there for him you hear? And Carl. And the baby. And all of them. I ain’t going nowhere anymore, not now I’ve found them all. You ain’t gotta worry about anything happening to them, because I may not have been here to protect you, but I’m here now. You hear me? I promise to do everything I can to protect your family, because dammit Lori they’re my family too.” Even if he hadn’t been there through it all, he still felt a connection with these people. Rick and Carl had always been like family to him, but the others had joined that little cluster of people he’d grown close to.

People were something to cling to in this world, it was hope, it was life and it was a reason to continue. No one could survive on their own anymore, they needed each other and he needed them just as much, even if it still felt like the most important person was still missing.

Wiping his mind clear of that minefield he pats at the ground again, continuing to talk to Lori about anything and everything. It was stupid, it was insane, but it’s helping and he’s grateful for the little relief it does give.

“Rick’s having a tough time with it all since you’re gone. He’s acting a little off, like he ain’t real sure what’s going on or how to handle it. He ain’t never been so good at losing people, but I’m gonna try my best to steer him through it, because the kids need him, the group need him and dammit I think I need him too.”

After everything he’s not going to lose his best friend for a third time. Not when he’d just found the man again. Rick needed him right now to be strong, to keep things running whilst he was dealing with his personal grief and Shane can be there for him, he can take that burden and help his brother through it all. Even now after months apart he’d fallen back into place with Rick like old times, easing back into his position at his side as his best friend and it wasn’t even difficult like he’d been worried about. It had been easy. It had felt like coming home.

Still no matter how comfortable he was in one aspect of his life there was still one that was tearing him apart a little and he knows that if there was anyone person in the universe he could confide in about relationship problems, it was Lori Grimes. The woman who had patted his shoulder after a bad break up, and made him his favourite sandwich to cheer him up after a date gone bad and been a shoulder to lean on when women vexed the shit out of him. She’d only every been there for him and he figured she wouldn’t mind if he let a little of it all out.

“I think he knows we’re both a little broken right now. Last night he asked me about everything that happened and shit even after all this time apart that man can still read me like a book.” He smiles at the thought, remembering all the times that Rick had managed to get something out of him because he just always knew when something was up.

“Shit you know me Lori.” Shane shrugs, laughing a little uneasily even if nothing is funny. Running his hand over the back of his head he tries to think of how to even start explaining it all. “I go through women easy enough but then when I fall for someone, bam! I fall hard.”

His mom had always called him out on being with so many different people, going through men and women, enjoying himself, living his younger years without a care for commitment and just enjoying his freedom. It had carried on way past his teenage years though and he remembers his mother warning him that one day he’d find himself love struck and not know what the hell to do about it. Damned woman was always right sooner or later.

“Happened with you. Happened with him too.” And it’s the first time he’s really truly allowed himself to think about Daryl properly since he’s gotten here. It burns more than it should have and he ends up rubbing the back of his neck and retracting his hand when he feels the absence of the metal chain there.

“Weren’t even meant to happen you know? Same as you and me, circumstance made it work and then suddenly it was more than just taking comfort in someone else.” Because neither of them had been looking for more than a quick release from everything, two grown men taking it all out on each other and not mentioning it again. It was easy, it was brief and for a moment Shane had been that carefree teenager again just using someone else’s body for his own wants. Things had worked in that vein until suddenly as if from out of nowhere he found himself actually giving a shit about the other man.

Him and Daryl weren’t the kind of thing people were never going to write romance novels about. There weren’t going to be anyone writing poems and calling them star-crossed lovers or some such shit. It was just casual fucking that somehow turned into something more and he had only realised it when the thought of losing the other man had made him feel so hollow. Over the months he’d begun to not only want to be with Daryl, but he didn’t want to be without him either. Now they were apart, it ached inside of him, a dull pain that he’s not sure will ever subside. “Rick knows. He sees it, he can tell I’m broken up over it all, but what was I meant to do Lori? I did what needed to be done.”

He couldn’t have left Glenn and Maggie there and there was no way he wanted to stay in a place controlled by a madman that he’d stabbed in the eye. Shane hadn’t had any other choice and besides, he knew it was the right path to take.

Still didn’t make it any easier, not when Daryl was somewhere out there, only a few miles down the road but he might as well be a lifetime away. There were no easy ways of communication anymore, he couldn’t just find out if he was alright or what he was doing. Long distance relationships didn’t work anymore, so in all truth anything that they’d had together had crumbled the second he’d walked away.

Shit he didn’t need this, it was still to hard, maybe some other time he’d tell her more. “Now the pair of you are gone and shit, I’m not so sure I can handle it as easy as I thought I could.” He shrugs, patting the earth before standing up, looking down at the grave and sighing lightly.

“But I got Rick, I got the kids and the group and between us all I think we might just make it you know? It’s gonna be tough don’t get me wrong and after being with him for so long on my own I keep expecting to turn around and have him be there, but-“

“Shane?”

Spinning on his heel for a second his heart stops, but then the familiar face settles into his view and despite the dark bags beneath his friend’s eyes, he’d never forget Rick’s face. “Oh. Hey man I was just…” Gesturing to the grave before them he waves his hand uselessly in the air, as if an answer was going to appear and make him look less crazy for doing it. Instead he gives a sigh and a half-hearted shrug. “I dunno.”

Rick doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look worried about him, instead his friend reaches out to set a hand on his shoulder, the two of them standing beside the grave of the woman they’d both loved in different ways. “Talking to Lori.” His voice is quiet, as if he’s worried about disturbing her, but Shane doesn’t question it. Instead he nods, setting his hands on his hips as the walkers chew on the fences around them. “I…I do it too.” Rick admits, looking at the ground and looking far too ashamed for Shane’s liking.

He’s been through this grief before, he’s felt the pain of losing a loved one and feeling as if the world should stop turning and listen to you as you yelled out your anger at the unfairness of it all. But they don’t get that time to grieve much anymore, not when the walkers kept coming up on them like this and there was work to be done.

So he can’t give him time, he can’t do much more than bring his friend into a one armed hug against his side and just let him feel him there. Real, alive and not going anywhere.

“Sometimes it helps man.” He reassures Rick, wanting to tell him that the pain does get easier to bear even if you never forget it. Losing Rick had hurt more than anything, but after a few months it became a pain he could handle and continue on with carrying. He doesn’t know if it would help for Rick to know that sometimes he’d spoken to him when in a coma, and really this was kind of a similar thing only without the hope of an answer.

They make their way back inside, slow footfalls between them, Rick’s hand on his shoulder and Shane can feel that both of them have a lot of healing to do. He knows things aren’t going to be easy, it’s going to take time for both he and Rick to deal with their losses, but time was all they had nowadays. Leaning into his friend a little closer he finds it eases the ache in his chest a little more to know that he’s there, beside him, strong and wanting to be there even through his own pain.

The rest of the group are still inside and the world is calm around them, birds singing in the trees, the wind blowing through the leaves and the walkers gnashing constantly on the fences. It’s their kind of peaceful and he’s grateful for it right now.

So the gunshot sounds louder than ever when the bullet lodges in the ground at his feet.

Both of them leap behind the fallen prison bus in the courtyard, grabbing their guns and listening to the sound of bullets spattering into the metal they’re sheltered behind. Instinct takes over and it’s as if they’re on a shootout, guns already in their hands and loaded, ready to defend themselves and use the enemy’s reload time to return fire. Shane’s body moves of its own accord, listening for the telltale pause, shifting to peer above the overturned bus and using the side to steady himself as he aims and fires at the men outside of their fences.

They’re too far away to get a clear shot and his shotgun isn’t doing much damage from this distance, especially not when he’s trying to count the number, find their positions and understand just what in the hell is going on. There’s another spray of bullets at them and Rick yanks him back down, the two of them pointing out a scattered group of men surrounding their fences and it’s when Rick speaks that Shane knows this isn’t just a raiding band of survivors.

“One of them has an eye patch.”

The next time they’re up and shooting back he’s only got one target on his mind and he’s firing into the shadows of the trees, looking for that fucking smirk, wanting to take him out, take him down and make him pay. A part of him checks over all the other men he can see, noting that there’s no crossbow, no laughter from the sidelines and though he can’t be sure, there’s a small hope that neither of the Dixons are out there against them. But he can’t be certain and really was it better or worse that the Governor was here without Daryl?

Maybe this meant they’d gotten away with it? Maybe the Governor had fallen for Daryl’s lies, Merle had covered for him like he’d said he would and now the two of them were keeping Woodbury safe whilst the Governor did this. But surely Daryl would have protested? Would have convinced Merle to stop the Governor? Or maybe the older Dixon really didn’t care about Daryl’s opinions enough to get himself kicked down the hierarchy?

Dammit so many fucking questions and not enough answers.

Firing into the distance he can feel Rick beside him and a part of himself is constantly on edge in case there’s the cold feeling of his partner falling to the ground again. No, they had this under control, they were firing back, at least one of the Governor’s men had gone down and now they were wasting ammo since everyone else was inside and safe.

He grits his teeth as they’re forced back down, crouched behind the upturned bus, the two of them sharing joint looks of stress and worry when the sound of the gates crashing to the floor hits their ears. Metal strikes the ground, there’s the sound of an engine, tyres on the meagre road they’ve got and the bullets cease for a second so they can look up at what’s happening.

The Governor isn’t advancing, his men are retreating back to the trucks they came in on except for one. One in the middle of their courtyard, backs doors opening, bodies falling out, the stench of rot and degraded corpses hits their noses as the dead get back to their feet and begin stumbling about inside the courtyard. The truck takes off, back out the gates, over the metal it had torn down and away, and as the rest of the vehicles turn in retreat Shane swears he can see the Governor fucking smiling at them as they go.

Walkers bear down on them, the pair of them trying to keep some cover behind the bus and stay unnoticed. Around them he can hear doors opening, shouting of people with fear in their voices and glancing back he can see the group have come to assist, each with guns and weapons. It’s not going to be enough and he knows they all know to conserve ammo, meaning right now he and Rick were pinned down and severely outnumbered.

Staying low he checks him ammunition, hissing when he finds it low and damn he knows Rick is the same beside him. Shouldering the shotgun he takes out his sidearm in one hand and knife in the other, used to having to get close and do the dirty work when he had to. He’d done this before, he’d taken down a pack with Daryl and this was no different, except it was inside their supposed safe zone. Gritting his teeth Shane moves out, Rick at his side and the pair of them covering the other as the walkers descend.

At the inner fences the group yell, trying to get the walkers’ attention from them but noise and yells were not enough to drag them from the scent of fresh and attainable meat. They snarl, staggering closer, a number high enough for him to worry about being able to fight them all off and hoping they didn’t get surrounded.

“We’ve got to keep moving, we stop and they’ll corner us.” He hisses to Rick, already firing to keep them back, taking down a couple with headshots and watching as Rick does the same. They fall to the ground but even their now still bodies aren’t enough to stop the hoard and they stumble over them, arms outstretched and hungry.

Rick is at his back, firing, lunging out to take down one with his knife and Shane is there to kick back the one that goes for Rick as he retakes his place. It’s getting tighter, the numbers are gathering around them and fuck it looked as if they were going to get swarmed. Lashing out he takes down a couple more, Rick doing the same and he yells out when he feels his friend pull away from him and not return to his position beside him.

“Shane come on!” Rick’s grabbing at the shoulder of his shirt, yanking on him, tugging him up and they’re climbing, both of them up onto the side of the bus, standing higher over the walkers and getting a reprieve as the hoard surrounds their island in the chaos. He kicks at a few, his boots going through the forehead of one and taking it down, Rick fires at a couple more and he knows the group behind the fences don’t dare risk a shot and hit them accidentally. “You bit?” His friend asks and he shakes his head, glancing over as Rick bends to stab one in the face.

“No, you?” He gets a shake of a head in reply and feels a small weight lift off his chest, wondering if they’re going to be able to keep up this momentum before the walkers manage to get to them. Already they’re climbing up the sides, rotting feet finding footholds in broken metal, dragging their corpses up until they’re clawing at their feet, snarling and moaning at them both.

Firing once more he knows he’s out of ammo now and when Rick swears beside him he knows it’s a shared feeling. Between the two of them they had their knives and such a short-range weapon had to be handled with care. One wrong move and walker could bite you if you timed it wrong and he was not going to go down like that and neither was Rick.

They move together, one leaning down to jab at a walker’s skull, another moving to help pull him back to his feet. But the walkers are not stopping, they’re getting impatient and using the body of the dead to give themselves more height, a group of them clawing up the front of the bus and staggering in their direction. Rick swears, Shane hisses and the group moving their way leaves them no room to back up. Step to the side and get scratched by one below, step back and fall off the bus, move just one inch the wrong way and get caught and killed. They had no choice but to take them down but the narrow space mad it more difficult not to get caught.

Shoving Rick behind himself he lunges forward, giving the man half a chance as he stabs at the lead walker, kicking one off the side and yanking his knife free to get another. One leans close for him, fingers reaching out, grabbing at his hair and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears as one mangled face snarls, broken teeth bared and close enough to bite.

It’s over, he can see death plain as day and he regrets that Rick is going to have to be the one to put him down after he’s bit. He’s breathing heavily, struggling to get free as they scrabble for him and just as he’s about to give a final yell of defiance the walker slumps down dead in front of him.

With a crossbow bolt sticking out from its skull.


	24. Chapter 24

Daryl doesn’t know if he’s ever fired a shot so fast in his life, but when he’d seen that walker on the bus lunge at Shane, he’d simply moved on instinct and fired his bow through the fence surrounding the prison’s courtyard. It nails the walker perfectly; a direct hit and Daryl’s never felt relief like this in his life. He’s panting, feeling exhausted, aching all over from his injuries and right now he’s so grateful that Merle is there beside him, helping too keep him upright as he slumps in pain. The journey to the prison had been hard, he’d collapsed and almost given up after a few miles, but Merle had been there, grumbling about having to save his ass again and dragging him back to his feet.

There had been no apology, no need to work through the fight from before. Merle had just helped him to his feet, given him that look that Daryl’s taken to mean he gave a shit about him, and they’d moved on. Now here they were, on one side of the fence and trying to work out exactly how to help. Well Merle’s probably just thinking of getting to fight walkers, but it’s good enough.

“Hey!” Daryl yells, shouldering his bow and grabbing his knife, banging on the fence with his spare hand to catch the mass of walkers’ attention. It doesn’t work, even when Merle takes note of his plan and joins in, hollering and calling them every name under the sun. Walkers were dumb but they knew what they wanted, and a couple of guys hollering from the other side of a fence wasn’t enough of a distraction from the potential meal of the two ex-cops on top of the bus.

Another walker lunges for Rick, one goes for Shane and he grits his teeth before scrabbling for the knot of fabric tied over his wounded arm.

“What the hell you doin’?” Merle calls over their noise, rattling the fence, checking his bayonet is secure and pointing his pistol through the fence, and taking down the walkers closest to the bus.

“Givin’ them what they want.” He hisses, gritting his teeth as he drags the blade of his knife over the closed wounds, reopening them as best he can before holding his arm against the fence, wiping the fresh flowing blood over the chain link. A part of him isn’t sure if it’ll work, but he’s praying it will, they all knew walkers liked flesh, but the scent of fresh blood might just be enough to override their want to kill Rick and Shane. “Come on you fuckers.”

He smears blood further, not letting the catch in his breath show as it hurts his arm to reopen the wound. It burns, aches right down every nerve but it’s their only hope right now, and losing a little blood was nothing compared to getting bit. Hitting the fence again he squeezes at his arm, trying to ease out more blood, hissing at the pain but moving through it when he hears the growl of a walker nearby. Through the fence he can see a few members of the herd turning their way, stumbling towards the fence and away from the bus and Shane.

It’s working, slowly but surely it’s drawing the walkers towards them but he can hear some walkers that are nearer. “Merle?”

“I got your back.” His brother grunts, moving to take down the walkers approaching them from the outside, lured in by the blood and finding them more interesting than entering through the broken prison gate. He can hear the sounds of bodies hitting the floor, Merle taking them down and defending him as the herd from within the fences head their way, hitting up against the fence and licking at the smears of his blood. It’s disgusting to watch flesh get caught in the metal as they try to lap at it, but the barrier of the fence gives him the time to stab them each individually, looking behind them to see Shane and Rick taking down the few walkers that linger.

The herd is thinned, easier to handle, each of them working together to take them down, him using the fence to allow himself the time to pause, breathing through the pain of his injuries as they ache all over him. He can feel his side crumpling beneath him, making him wince as he stabs the last walker through the head, yanking his knife free and wiping as much of the mix of his own blood and walker gunk off it as possible. Daryl can feel himself trembling as he slide it back into its sheathe, reaching out to knot his fingers in the fence as he brings his injured arm to his chest. Beside him Merle is breathing heavily, panting and cleaning off his bayonet and Daryl glares down at the bodies piled around them as he feels his body just ache.

Then a hand moves on the opposite side of the fence to his own, fingers move through the weave of gaps to link with his fingers and he can’t help but give a small smile when he looks up through the fence to find Shane before him.

It’s not been long, heck it’s barely been a fucking day and yet he feels like they’ve been apart a lifetime. So much had happened between then and now, but here he was, here Shane was and Daryl knew he had no intention of ever leaving again. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to explain and tell him but instead he settles for the easier option. “Hey.”

Shane smiles, he gives a small snort of a laugh through his nose and shakes his head, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and Christ Daryl’s missed all of this. “Hey yourself.” It’s pathetic, it’s nothing really but fuck he’s so grateful to hear Shane’s voice. He remembers the walker he’d taken down, he remembers thinking he might have been too late and feeling that terror run through him at the thought of losing Shane for good.

It’s a moment of sanity in a world of chaos, something to cling to when the moment between them can’t last forever.

“Got room for two more in there Officer Friendly?” Merle asks from beside him, dragging him out from his reunion with Shane and making him aware of his pain making itself known. Holding his arm against his chest he glances to Rick, hoping that the man has the answer he wants right now. His plan had been to get to the prison, other than that he really hadn’t thought it through.

What if Rick didn’t want them there? From what he’d heard Rick hadn’t exactly taken to his brother at their first meeting, and the ex-cop must know about what Merle had done to Glenn. Shit, what if they refused them both? There was no way the two of them could survive out there on their own anymore.

He watches as Shane and Rick share a look, there’s worry in Rick’s face, he can see it all in the lines there, and he’s just praying that he might be able to convince him to ignore it. But before he can open his mouth to try and make their case, Shane is there first. Daryl watches as Shane steps up to his friend, meeting Rick’s eyes and Daryl wonders just what is being said in the silence between them before any words are said.

“Can’t leave them out there man. Merle just helped save both of our asses and Daryl…” There’s a moment, a pause in his words where Rick glances over to Daryl and then back to Shane and in that second he knows Rick knows. Of course Rick knows, he just wonders exactly how much he knows and how much Shane had said about them. “Daryl’s injured.” Shane finishes, but Daryl knows there was more said between them than just the words.

Rick nods for them to come in through the broken down part of the fence and between the four of them they manage to get it standing again, linked up with cable ties to give them a basic defence against the outside world. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to stop the threat of walkers for the moment and it’s the peace of mind they all need when they’ve got bigger threats out there.

He can see that Rick has changed since he saw him last, he looks tougher, harder, like the world had taken whatever light was within the man and snuffed it out. Daryl’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing right now, but he can see that there’s no question that Rick is the leader here, the one in control who they had to convince to let them stay.

They begins walking back up inside to the prison yard, the rest of the group waiting on the other side of the fences that separate the courtyard and the buildings. Daryl knows he’s limping, he can feel the ache of the bruises down his side, his arm is fucking throbbing in pain and beside him Merle places a hand to his shoulder as they walk. He’s nervous. Rick and Shane lead the way, Shane talking to his friend, maybe trying to convince him to let them stay, maybe talking about plans or tactics, but either way he knows they’ve got a lot to deal with right now.

The group watch them as they approach and he can see Maggie and Glenn looking damned pissed, talking to each other in hushed voices and glaring Merle’s way. He can understand their anger, really he can, but still he doesn’t want them to kick them out. They can’t survive out there by themselves, they need people, he needs people, he needs the group and he wants Shane.

Scanning the group he keeps himself quiet as Rick explains the situation to them all, not wanting to butt in and making sure that Merle knows he needs to shut the fuck up and behave as well. His brother is a hothead, but from the look on his face Daryl knows he’ll be good for now. His arm throbs; he holds the rag to the cuts and tries to stop it from gushing so much blood when there were more important things to deal with.

There are new people he doesn’t recognise, but he ignores them, if they’re here then they must be trustworthy and he’d have to get to know the pair of them. Carol is the same as ever, strong, looking him over with a smile and he’s actually pretty damned glad that she’s here right now. The young Greene girl is still here as if her father, but Hershel is looking a little worse for wear with only one leg. He’ll ask about that later. Andrea has a smirk on her face, she’s cocky as always, gun at her hip and arms folded as she listens to Rick, beside her stands Michonne and he nods to the familiar face in greeting.

Then there’s the last person on the end of the line, he’s taller than Daryl remembers, and still wearing that stupid Sheriff’s hat but the thing that Daryl really notices about Carl is what he’s holding tightly in his arms. A baby. A girl by the looks of things, a pink bundle that he’s clutching tightly to his chest and he can just about see a tiny fist waving in the air. As much as he wants to ask he also doesn’t want to, because though he notices who is there, he also notices who isn’t.

Members of Hershel’s group that he’d never really cared to learn the names of, T-Dog was absent, as was Dale and worst of all was the notable lack of Lori Grimes. Hanging his head a little he knows he doesn’t want to ask, so instead he waits patiently, feeling his arm throb as the verdict is given and despite Glenn and Maggie’s protests he and Merle are led inside.

The prison is grey all over, huge and overbearing with bars at each door, space all around them but Daryl can see the touches they’ve made to make it more like home. Some cells have blankets draped over the entrance for a mock door; there are supplies for a mini kitchen, a weapons area as well as a table and benches set up in the centre of the room. It’s not much but it’s safe, it's able to be locked down and despite it all he wants to get used to it and start feeling at home as soon as possible.

“You need to get stitched up.” Michonne tells him, a small smile on her face and though she won’t say anything Daryl knows she’s pleased he’s alive and well. He feels the same about her, glad that if anyone from Woodbury had joined them, it was someone who could handle herself and that they could trust easily. “You’re gonna bleed all over our nice clean cell block otherwise.”

She points him in the direction of Hershel’s cell, the old famer hobbling his way over with the clack of crutches against the floor and leading him inside. At first he wants to protest, they needed to talk about the Governor and get something set up, ready to defend them all in case of another attack and get everything sorted between them. The group clearly had questions, they’d want to know everything they could and he could help with that. “Sit down before you fall down.” Hershel tells him, already seated on a stool and tapping at him with a crutch to get him to listen. It’s a tell of how he still respects the old man that he does as he’s told so easily and perches on the edge of the bunk before him. “And don’t worry, I’m sure Rick and Shane are getting as much information as possible out of your brother.”

“I could help…” He mutters, not wanting to be the problem and glancing to the doorway as Hershel goes through a medical kit bag, pulling his arm closer and wiping at the smeared blood.

“And you could get an infection if you leave this much longer.” Hershel nods to his wounds, questions in his eyes and a sigh on his lips as Daryl hisses at the pressure from the rag. It hurts but he’s had worse and right now his own well being was the lowest on his list of priorities. “I would offer you something to numb it for the stitches but I remember your answer from last time.”

Daryl grunts out a slight huff of a laugh, remembering when Hershel had been sewing him up before and wondering how the old man just let him back in so easily. Hershel trusted freely, wholly and willingly and Daryl is so pleased that somehow his absence hasn’t made the man wary of him at all. It seemed he was being let in without question, despite his injuries, despite his association with Woodbury and having his brother in tow. It felt nice, it felt right and he’d missed the feeling of not being so on edge all the time.

Hershel takes his time sewing him up, washing out each cut as well as he can and though he works in silence it’s not uncomfortable at all. Daryl takes the moment to compare the prison to Woodbury and he finds himself certain that though it may have taken him a while, he’d made the right choice in the end. This place wasn’t as comfortable, it wasn’t as well maintained or even as populated, but it was so much more than Woodbury. The people here made the difference and he doesn’t want to hide away from them all and be by himself like he had at Woodbury.

His arm gets bandaged, the cuts hidden away beneath clean bandages and leaving him feeling a little better that he knows he’s not going to be losing his arm to infection. It had been a serious worry on the road but here already he was doing much better here. Wincing a little as he shifts he knows Hershel wants to inspect the rest of his injuries, but the arm was the worst and besides, he’d dealt with bruises before and there was nothing the vet could do for him anyway. “I’m fine, thanks doc. Nothing that a bit of rest won’t fix.”

“I’m sure we can find you a cell, and one for your brother too.” Hershel nods, gesturing to his own personal cell around them and leaving Daryl wondering if he could really get used to sleeping in a cage. The thought makes him shiver a little but he could do it if he had to, or maybe hunt out somewhere more open to sleep.

“How’s the patient doing?” He knows that voice and immediately he’s glancing to the doorway, finding Shane leaning there with his arms folded and looking calm as ever. It’s stupid, it’s not been long at all that they’ve been apart and yet Daryl finds himself looking over every inch of him just in case something had changed. Nothing has, Shane is the same as ever and he’s glad of that.

“Well enough, going to have to keep an eye on the cuts but he’s had worse. And this time he’s not going to be popping any stitches and making me redo them.” Hershel looks up to him whilst packing away medical items, a small smile hidden beneath his newly grown beard and Daryl can’t help but smirk at the memories it all brings up. Yeah this place was definitely better than Woodbury.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Shane nods, licking at his lips and glancing back into the hallway of the cellblock before he speaks again. Daryl knows that look, he’s missed that fucking look and he knows when Shane has more he wants to say but can’t. Getting to his feet he nods to Hershel in thanks, moving to leave the cell and follow Shane when he turns to leave. Everyone else is inside the cellblock, he can see Merle and Rick bent over the tabletop over something, a map probably and discussing plans. He knows he should care but right now he just doesn’t.

Instead he follows Shane blindly, uncaring about where they’re going or anything else in the world so long as they get to be there together. They turn some corners, walk down a hallways and climb some stairs, Shane grabbing his wrist partway through the journey and keeping him close until they reach a small room. It’s nothing much, probably the overnight room used by guards for a nap when their shifts overran, but it’s got windows, it’s got beds, it’s got privacy, a lock on the door and most importantly; it’s got Shane.

Arms wrap around him, his fingers clutch at Shane’s shirt and their lips meet in the most perfect kiss of his life. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, a hand cups at the back of his neck to keep him close, everything around him smells of Shane, it’s exactly how he remembers and Daryl loves every second of it. He can’t get enough of Shane, and he parts his lips willingly, moaning around the tongue that swipes across his own and panting when Shane pulls back just enough to rest their foreheads together.

Daryl wants to say everything, he wants to hear everything Shane has to say and just enjoy this moment between them both. Shane is pressed up against him, real and alive, strong and breathing in the same space as him, winding his fingers in the hair at the base of his neck and holding him close. Gripping Shane’s shirt tighter he doesn’t know where to start with it all, there’s far too much he wants to say, even more that he’s scared of saying and yet again the world seems to be moving far too fast. He just wants more time here, but right now he simply had this moment and he intends to make the most of it.

Fingers trails over his neck, stroking and rubbing and when he glances up to meet Shane’s eyes he can see the question there at the absence of the familiar chain. Biting on his lower lip, all the anxiety and worries he’d been ignoring rush back to him, churning in his stomach until he’s pulling back a little. Lifting a hand he rubs at the back of his neck, knowing what Shane’s asking without saying a word and feeling guilty that he’d managed to ruin this moment without even trying. “It got…” He tries to explain but before he can even try Shane is there, kissing him hard and wrapping his arms around him again.

“I don’t care.” Shane mumbles against his lips, kissing him again, holding him tight, running hands over his back and for a second Daryl really wants to give in and believe him.

Still he presses back just enough to glance up to Shane, to try and find the lie in his eyes when he speaks. He can’t possibly not care. Daryl remembers Shane telling him about it, he remembers hearing about Shane wearing it since high school, knowing it was his football number and how it reminded him of the good times. Losing something like that would be important to anyone and he knows Shane’s got to be pissed beneath the surface. “But-“

Shane holds him tighter, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his hips and before Daryl can really protest he’s cutting him off with a shake of his head. “It’s just a stupid necklace Daryl.” He says and of course Daryl doesn’t believe him.

“But it meant so much to you.” Daryl mumbles, guilt churning inside of him and though he knows he should be pulling back he never wants to leave this spot again. Being back with Shane meant more to him than he’d realised and he’s both worried and relieved that the other man isn’t angry with him for losing the necklace when it had been so important.

A hand moves to cup his face, a strong thumb rubbing beneath his eye and Daryl finds himself having to meet Shane’s gaze. There’s no anger, no resentment, no negative emotions of any kind there and Daryl tries to remember exactly when he learnt to read the other man so well. It’s as if he can almost feel it, the honesty when Shane speaks and it leaves him a little breathless.

“Not as much as this does.” Shane whispers, as if it’s a secret just between the two of them, shared in this moment they’ve got. “Nowhere near as much as this.” And then Shane is kissing him again and that guilt evaporates from him, leaving Daryl kissing back with a small whimper, clinging to Shane’s shirt and finding that he understands what Shane is saying. He meant more to him than the necklace, more than a personal item that had survived the world, more to him that happy memories.

Maybe somehow in all the shit they’d been through, he’d become Shane’s reminder of the good times and something for him to hang on to?

Resting their foreheads together when the kiss ends Daryl finds himself smiling, actually honest to God smiling despite everything that he’s been through the past few days. Because this was a good thing at the end of the world, this was something worth carrying on for and something to want to protect. Shane stays against him, real and living, strong and holding him, the same as ever and fuck Daryl’s missed this so much. “It’s only been a day.” He chuckles, aware that he probably looks like an idiot for being so happy over finding Shane again through everything.

“Feels like longer.” Shane mutters, and before Daryl can agree Shane’s lips are on his neck, nipping and kissing over his pulse point and biting hard enough to leave bruises. Maybe he should protest and not want such brash evidence on show, but right now he doesn’t care because as far as he’s concerned there is only he and Shane and the rest of the world can go to hell. “Feels like I haven’t really seen you since before Woodbury.” Shane mumbles into his skin, moving to place a kiss over the new bruising before pulling away to look at him again.

Already Daryl is breathing hard, fully aware of every inch of their bodies that are pressed together and trying to recall exactly when was the last time they’d had the time to just be together without any worries. He can’t remember and his fingers begin to pluck at the buttons on Shane’s shirt as he arches against the other man. “Missed you.” He mumbles, aware that he’s flushing, and acting like some stupid love sick teenager, but damn he doesn’t care, not right now. “Missed you Shane.”

A low hum of agreement is his answer, Shane’s mouth too busy moving down over his neck again, making him gasp and tilt his head to the side to accommodate the move. Daryl finishes unbuttoning Shane’s shirt and shoves at it, now desperate to feel more of him, to have everything that Shane was willing to give him and then take more just because he could. Shane smiles against his neck, helping to remove his own shirt and toss it aside before starting on Daryl’s own and the vest, sliding fingers down over his chest to begin unbuttoning them.

Daryl moves to kiss him again, hands coming up to tangle in Shane’s hair, knotting there and holding him close as Shane’s fingers begin sneaking beneath each undone button, running over his chest and his side until Daryl is forced to give a gasp at the sudden brush of pain. Immediately Shane freezes, pulling back from the kiss and glancing to his chest, tugging his shirt fully open to see the damage. Purple and dark blues litter his skin; mixing in with old scars and making him look worse than usual in the daylight that filters in to the room.

“Ain’t nothin’.” And immediately he’s trying to tug his shirt back closed, not wanting to deal with it, just wanting Shane and everything he had to give to him. He doesn’t want this talk, he doesn’t want the sympathetic looks or the pity, he just wants Shane.

Of course it doesn’t work like that and he knows that just like with every other mark on his body, once someone’s seen them they can’t let go. Shane moves to stop his hand from covering him up, brushing aside the fabric of the shirt to see the mottled bruising that runs over his ribs. There’s a boot print made obvious, the imprint of a clenched fist runs above his navel and he knows he’s a mess but did Shane really need to see this right now? He hates being seen like this, weak and broken, something to pity like a kicked dog and he never wants Shane to see him like that.

But when he glances up, ready to fight, ready to tell him to back off and that he could fight his own battles, Shane isn’t looking at him with pity. Soft pads of his fingers run over the marks, not pressing, just running over the top of his skin and tracing the outline of them. There’s an anger in Shane’s voice when he speaks but it’s controlled, it’s not aimed at him and Daryl is curious as to why he’s suddenly so mad. “He did this to you didn’t he?” Shane asks, voice even but not hiding the rage there. “He did this to you because of me.”

And there’s upset to, mixed with guilt and hatred and Daryl doesn’t want Shane to think that any of this was his fault. He won’t lie to him, he hasn’t so far and didn’t intend to start now, so he gives a shrug, watching as Shane’s fingers stroke over the bruises and make him shiver.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, feeling awkward, feeling like he’s been shoved under a microscope and that Shane is seeing far too much of him right now. He doesn’t want to be pitied because of his injuries right now; he just wants Shane to ignore them. “Just hurts when you poke ‘em is all.” Daryl takes a half a step back, moving from Shane’s touch to begin buttoning his shirt again, knowing that this was over for the moment. No one ever wanted to see that sort of shit and there was no way Shane would think him capable of continuing when he couldn’t even take a few punches without bruising like a peach.

Fingers snag in the fabric he’s buttoning up, Shane moves against him and before Daryl is really aware of what’s happening he’s being slowly manoeuvred back onto a bed. The springs creak beneath him but he pays no mind, far too interested when Shane moves to lean above him, moving to press a deep kiss to his lips, stroking over his bottom lip with his tongue. When he feels his shirt being unbuttoned again he pulls back, ready to protest but finding his voice catch when Shane dips down to press a soft kiss over his ribs.

It doesn’t hurt at all and he glances down when Shane continues pressing the gentlest kisses to his sides, covering the bruises all over, dipping down, spreading open the shirt and leaning over him. Then Shane peeks up at him, there’s a small smirk on his lips and then he slowly, ever so slowly drags the tip of his tongue over Daryl’s stomach. And everything else in the world disappears for Daryl, he’s shivering, letting out a small moan of enjoyment and that just spurs Shane on. There are more kisses beside his navel, Shane licks up over the bruises, kissing beneath his ribs, holds down Daryl’s hips when he wants to buck up and he knows he’s gasping and whining pathetically over it all.

Shane’s tongue runs over him, licking just beneath his navel, dipping to run along the waistband of his clothing before heading back up. That makes him arch upwards and Shane’s already starting to undo his jeans, tugging them down to his knees and helping him kick off his boots. Fingers stroke over his chest, light enough not to cause harm, rubbing over his nipple before pushing the shirt and vest he’s wearing open even more. Shane returns to licking over him, first the tip of his nose mapping out the path and then being followed by his tongue, first flat and strong over his quivering flesh, then just the tip, drawing patterns, tracing lines over him and undoing Daryl completely.

At no point does Shane look at him with pity for having the bruises, he doesn’t treat that gathering of skin any differently from any other part of him and Daryl’s not entirely sure what to do with that information. He feels like he should hide them as he does every other part of himself he doesn’t like, but Shane noses at his open shirt, moving it aside to trail his tongue over his side, mapping down to his underwear, dipping in the crease of his hip before moving to stroke over him again. It’s perfect, it’s done without flinching or mention of his injuries and Shane may be being careful, but he’s not pitying him at all through all of it.

Letting out a gasp he moves to run his hands over Shane’s hair, getting his attention before tugging him up to join their mouths. It’s awkward but it’s perfect all the same and in a sudden need of movement he’s yanking at Shane’s belt, stroking over his crotch as Shane does the same to him and desperate to be against him as they helps each other undress. He needs this, he needs all of him right now and from the look in Shane’s eye he knows the other man feels the same. Leaning closer he presses a kiss to Shane’s lips, rocking into him before making his choice.

As soon as he shifts one sleeve out from the shirt Shane is freezing in place against him, hands still on Daryl’s hips but they both know what he’s doing. A part of Daryl wants to explain, he wants to let Shane know that he wants to share all of himself with him, that he doesn’t want to hide and that he knows if Shane can take bruises then he can take this. But it’s too difficult and Shane is watching him far too closely with a question in his eyes that he doesn’t need to say out loud. ‘Are you sure?’ Daryl can hear it almost as if it were said out loud and he’s nodding, shrugging out of the shirt and vest with one last move before pressing himself flush against Shane.

It shouldn’t feel so different for to two of them to be naked and against each other, but it does, it feels perfect and terrifying and through it all Daryl isn’t sure if he’s made the right choice. But then Shane’s mouth dips to the hollow of his throat again, kisses over his pulse point and he knows he has when Shane’s hands run over his back without any hesitation of sign of horror over what he feels. It’s what he wants, not to be pitied, but to be treated as if they weren’t even there, as if they were just a natural part of himself that didn’t deserve to be seen as something so horrifying. Sighing happily he leans into Shane, letting his hands run over his partner’s sides and feel their bodies flush against each other.

He lets Shane feel him, taking the time to instead explore the other man’s body and focus on every bit of him he’d missed. Letting his lips trail to Shane’s shoulder, to taste the mix of sweat and the tang of pure Shane that lingered all over him. Daryl lets his hands wander, moving down over the planes of Shane’s body, feeling the muscles twitch beneath him as he traces them and loving the groan he makes when Daryl wraps his fingers around his cock. Moving his mouth to Shane’s nipple he hums to himself in pleasure as Shane’s hands move down to his rear.

“God I want you.” Shane mutters and Daryl can hear the arousal in his voice as he strokes down over his cock, running his fingers over the length until Shane is groaning out loud. “I want you so bad Daryl, want to make you feel so good.” He continues and Daryl’s even missed this. He’s missed how Shane would talk to him, ease him through any discomfort or awkwardness with his words and leave him writhing and wanting more with every stroke of his fist.

“Want you to have me.” He replies, not protesting when Shane pushes him back down onto the bed, leaning over him to press another open-mouthed kiss to his ribs. It makes him moan, especially when Shane’s hand continues pumping on his cock; stroking him lightly as his tongue begins exploring again. Wet strokes over his navel makes him shiver, and when Shane blows a cold stream of air over him he can feel his dick twitch in want, almost wanting to beg for more. “Want you to have all of me Shane.”

His tongue continues over his skin, lapping at him softly between kisses, running over each bruise again and kisses are delicately placed over them. Arching back on the bed sheets Daryl spreads his leg wider, knowing he’s flushing pathetically and feeling like wanton whore for doing so, but he wants to give Shane as much room as possible to carry on that feeling. Shane’s fingers let go of his cock, moving to reach for something on the floor and Daryl’s already biting his lip in anticipation when Shane’s slick fingers begin pressing inside of himself.

Immediately he’s panting, laying back and watching the ceiling as those wonderful fingers stroke inside of him, gently stretching him out and hunting out that sweet spot. As soon as Shane finds it he’s moaning, feeling Shane do the same against his skin from where he’s still licking over his stomach. He’s so hard right now, his cock digging in to Shane’s chest where they’re pressed together but he doesn’t want to come yet, not like this, not when he knew how much better it could get.

“Shane please.” He whines, his own fingers curled in the sheets, tugging on them as he arches up at each movement, feeling himself quiver at each stroke over that spot. “I want you. I want you so bad please.” Daryl doesn’t care if he sounds pathetic because right now the only other person here was Shane and Shane can see him however he was. The other man wasn’t going anywhere, he’d made that clear enough by now and right now he needs him entirely. “I need you.”

“Need you too.” And Shane is back over him again, kissing him deep and hard, running a hand down over his chest as he pulls away to slick himself up. When he’s back over him Daryl can’t help but sling his arms about his neck, pulling him down for a hard kiss as he spreads him legs, letting Shane help lift his hips into position. “Need you so much Daryl, you have no idea. Fuck I need you.” Shane is panting into his mouth, stroking over him lightly before holding himself steady, pressing into him with a cautiousness he doesn’t have the time for right now.

Bracing himself against Shane he arches his back, moaning continuously as he pushes back against him, feeling him fill his body and complete him entirely. Shane is pressed into his neck, quivering a little as is he, both of them remembering this feeling and loving every second of the stretch, burn and tightness of it all. Daryl breathes deeply, feeling how deep Shane is inside of him, making him gasp and bite on his lower lip at the feel of being filled. It’s everything he never knew he needed, Shane is everything he needed.

At first they merely hold each other, both getting used to the feeling again before rocking together, merely a tiny hitch of hips, a small arch from Daryl as they enjoy the feeling. The bed creaks beneath them as they slowly move, both panting, both sweating and Daryl lays flush back against the sheets when Shane finally thrusts properly into him. He never thought this could feel so good, but the slow stretch of his body around Shane’s cock and the way being slowly pushed into makes him feel is incredible. It’s as if he never knew how empty he was before all of this and Shane came into his life.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Shane mutters, moving to bite and kiss at his neck again, dragging teeth over his pulse point and making him moan loudly. It’s not until he stops doing it that Daryl has got the control to comply, hooking his ankles together behind Shane’s back and feeling the way Shane’s hips dig into his thighs. “Fuck Daryl, fuck man.” Shane groans, pressing deeper inside of him and wrapping his arms around Daryl’s back.

Before he can ask what he’s doing Daryl’s clinging on tightly as Shane moves, holding him as best he can and moving them until Daryl is on his knees, Shane beneath him with that damned smirk on his face. At first Daryl’s too busy trying to work out what the hell happened, but when he finally gets settled and Shane’s hands on his hips pull him back down, he fucking whimpers at the feeling. It’s like Shane is deeper than ever, Daryl straddling his hips and rocking down on top of him, feeling how deep inside he is. Beneath him Shane gives a groan, leaning back a little to look down at them both, groaning at the sight of them joined together and making Daryl flush.

He can feel himself blushing when Shane leans back further, his eyes raking over his entire body, taking everything in as Daryl is bared to him whilst rocking slightly on his cock. Biting on his lower lip Daryl braces himself on Shane’s chest, using him for leverage as he rises up before settling back down, feeling the slide of Shane’s slick cock inside of himself. Shane is watching him, groaning loudly at every movement, breathing heavily and when his hand moves to grip at Daryl’s cock he knows he’s so so lost now.

“Come on Daryl.” Shane murmurs, back against the bed sheets, one hand on his hip as the other strokes him, letting him make the choice of how fast to move. Daryl braces himself again, feeling each inch as he slides back down, letting out a breathy moan as Shane’s cock rubs over that spot inside of him. Each rock of his hips makes him shiver, and soon enough they’ve got a rhythm between them, with Daryl grinding down and rocking onto Shane’s cock as the other man strokes over him. “Yeah just like that, fuck you look so good like this Daryl.”

Digging his fingers into Shane’s ribs Daryl pants, feeling each movement bring him closer and closer to the edge. Shaking his head he stays still, still breathing hard and when Shane shifts beneath him to sit up, wrapping his arms about him and holding him close, he shivers as his cock shifts a little inside of him. He feels so good right now and even if Shane’s let go of his cock to hold him tighter he still feels far too fucking close to coming to even think of moving right now. Biting on his lower lip he can feel himself trembling at the effort not to move, wanting this to last longer, wanting it to last forever even though he knows it can’t.

“Does that feel good?” Shane murmurs to him, and gives a hard buck of his hips. It’s enough to make Daryl cry out, frantically squeezing his eyes shut and moving a free hand to cover his mouth, desperate to hold back just for a moment longer. “None of that now Daryl.” Lips trail over his neck, a tongue runs down before teeth dig in to leave a deeper bruise, one that’ll be seen easily and he can’t help but buck up when Shane thrusts deep again. “Want to hear you.” Shane groans, one arm around Daryl’s back supporting him through each buck of his hips and the other moving to tug his hand away from his mouth.

“Sh-Shane…” He stutters like an idiot, blushing deeply, moving to clinging to Shane’s shoulders with both hands and unable to stop from pressing back for more, feeling his cock jerk against them both and leave a smear of pre-cum over them.

“Want to see you too.” The hand that had freed his mouth moves to cup the back of his head, twining in his hair as the thumb strokes beneath his eye. When he forces himself to open them all Daryl can see is Shane, flushed, sweating and panting as he thrusts into him harder. “Fuck you’re so perfect Daryl.” Shane moans loudly, tightening his hold around Daryl’s back and pressing in deeper, moving faster and Daryl knows he’s not the only one who’s not going to last much longer. “Let me hear you, let me know how good it feels.”

He’s shaking, his body feels like a mass of nerves on edge and everything feels so good he’s not sure if he’s going to make much sense if he speaks. Daryl groans loudly, stopping himself from biting his lip midway through and letting the noise out into the room, hearing Shane moan in reply and thrust even deeper inside of him. It’s enough and he can feel his body give in, pushing back against every thrust, feeling Shane press against the spot inside of him with every move of his hips and it’s too good to stop himself. “’s so good, I can’t…I’m gonna, oh fuck Shane. Shane!” Arching into it he knows he’s babbling but he doesn’t care, because right now his body is trembling, his muscles are tensing and everything is a moment of pure bliss.

The world fucking stops around him because there’s nothing more than he and Shane in this moment, his body arching, tense in all the right places as he comes hard, feeling each spurt before his body is finally able to relax. Against him Shane is panting hard, moving to kiss him, uncaring that he’s unable to reciprocate and grunting loudly before tensing beneath him, and Daryl can feel every single pulse of his cock inside of him and it’s perfect. He’s shaking a little, body still in shock, still feeling far too good to be true with his nerves all on fire and cock leaking between them. Shane is pressed into him, both of them slick with sweat and uncaring, lost in each other and the moment.

Hands stroke over his back as he shivers, Shane moves to kiss his softly, letting him sigh into it before they part to rest their foreheads together. Both of them are breathing heavily, every so often one of their bodies will twitch with and aftershock and Daryl couldn’t think of anything but Shane. It’s perfect. It’s everything he never knew he wanted or needed and right now, looking into the other man’s eyes he knows, he just knows that Shane feels the same way about him.


	25. Chapter 25

Shane holds Daryl close, both of them lying back against the mattress and pressing into each other to fit properly upon it. He’s missed this. The constant presence of Daryl in his life is something he never knew he needed until it wasn’t there and when the thought of losing him again crosses his mind, Shane makes sure to run his fingers across Daryl’s ribs. The skin beneath his fingertips is warm, Daryl is still breathing a little heavily after their session together and each time he takes in a lungful of air, Shane watches his chest rise and fall in time.

His skin is marked all over. Dark blemishes stain Daryl’s pale flesh, bruises darken it in patches, marks of a fist, the imprint of a boot pressed into his body even though it shouldn’t be there. It makes Shane feel a mixture of anger and worry and before he can help himself he’s running his fingers over the bruises lightly, hating that they don’t even feel as if they exist. Daryl tenses a little beneath him, watching as his fingers skate over his skin and Shane makes sure to take his time, never pressing too hard or causing a single bit of pain to his partner.

“You’re going to need to rest up for a while.” He murmurs, moving to lean on his side, getting a better look over all of Daryl and enjoying being trusted enough to see him like this. They’re both still naked, wrapped in the sheets of the bed and each other, pressing into the warmth of their bodies and taking the time to just exist together. There isn’t a lot of time to just ‘be’ these days, and Shane fully intends to make the most of it.

Daryl hums beside him, stretching his arms up to fold them behind his head with a loose shrug. “I’ve had worse Shane. I’ll be fine.” He tells him, not at all bothered by any of his wounds and still looking as determined as ever.

Shane knows different. He’s seen Daryl broken down, he’s seen him unable to defend himself and he knows that sometimes this tough act was all bullshit. Studying Daryl’s body he lets his eyes wander from the bruises to the other marks over him. He had only ever caught a glimpse of them before now, but Daryl had shown them to him, revealed all to him in the biggest display of trust he’d ever seen.

He doesn’t ask about them and he doesn’t move his fingers to stroke over them either. Right now Daryl was his entirely and he didn’t want to scare him back into his shell by making his interest too obvious. Instead Shane simply takes in the sight of pale white scars wrapping around Daryl’s skin, moving to be hidden upon his back, pressed against the sheets where Shane cannot study them in full. Still, it’s enough for now, it’s more than he’d ever asked for and he’ll take it. The scars are big, bigger than any he’s seen before and Shane can tell by the thickness of a few that they would extend fully across Daryl’s back. He must have kept them hidden for so long, whether through shame or worry, Daryl had kept these marks to himself.

There’s no point denying that he wants to know more. Shane wants to know who the hell has marked Daryl in this way, he’s always wanted answers over everything and this was something so important he wanted to hear it from Daryl’s lips. But he knows that won’t happen, at least not today and so he makes well thought out assumptions of who gave him the scars that decorate his skin.

Some curl over his shoulder, moving down low enough to scrape at Daryl’s collarbone and though he keeps his palm flat across Daryl’s stomach over the bruises, he can’t help but keep his eyes focussed on the scar as he speaks. “Tell me what he did.” A part of Shane isn’t sure if he’s asking about the bruises or the scars.

“It doesn’t matter what he did.” Daryl gives a grunt of reply, moving a hand down to brush Shane’s aside and off from where the bruises show up so easily. “I don’t wanna talk about it. He got a few lucky hits in, and cut my arm, that’s it.” He continues and Shane can see just how on edge the other man is.

He knows him, he knows him so well by now and there’s something else there. If it was just hits and bruises then Daryl would have fought back, would be boasting about having given all he’d got and besides, these bruises were full on, as if he’d been exposed and not curled up trying to protect himself. It makes Shane worry and though he hears Daryl’s wish, he can’t help his own need to satisfy his curiosity.

Shifting a little closer he shakes his head, sitting up enough to reach out and cup Daryl’s chin, focussing his gaze on the other man’s face and noting how he attempts to look away. He’s chewing on his lip, fidgeting with the sheets and Shane can read him like a book. “Daryl, I know there’s something else.” He tries to coax but Daryl is shaking his head, sitting up and keeping the sheets about himself as he searches the floor for clothing.

“Doesn’t matter. Leave it, it’s done.” Daryl snaps and Shane knows better than to keep pushing right now.

They’ve been together for months now, whether through circumstance or some weird kind of fate, he was with Daryl and he knew him better than anyone else. Shane knows he’s pushed too far, he can see it in the tension across Daryl’s shoulders, in the way he refuses to look back at him and the way Daryl is hunting for clothes to hide himself away again.

For the first time Shane gets a full look at Daryl’s back and he can’t lie; it’s worse than he’d imagined. He knew Daryl was scarred, but to see the mottled skin, just how dark the scars run and how big, he knew exactly how much force and hatred had to be used to make marks like that. They were the marks that Daryl hid away from the rest of the world, ashamed, wanting to remain hidden and ignored. Shane refused to be the one to make him feel like that about anything he’d said.

Reaching out he wraps his arms about Daryl’s waist, dragging him back practically into his lap, feeling the stiffness in Daryl’s shoulders as he presses his chest against his scarred back. There’s a momentary flinch from Daryl, a normal reaction that Shane doesn’t take offense at, instead he takes a moment to run his fingers over Daryl’s stomach, keeping him close before kissing over his shoulder lightly in apology. It’s not much, but he never wants Daryl to feel the need to run and hide away from him.

Daryl shivers a little in his arms, and after a few moments he begins to relax, leaning back against Shane’s waist and letting his head drop back onto his shoulder. They remain that way for a while, Shane making sure not to let his curious fingers run to Daryl’s back or to touch any scars, and Daryl just relaxing back against him. It’s quiet, it’s normal and for a moment Shane can pretend that it’s just the two of them alone in the world and everything is easy once again.

Except it’s not is it?

“I’m going to kill him you know?” Shane tells him, moving to let his nose rest behind Daryl’s ear as he speaks. “That Governor asshole doesn’t deserve to live, not for what he did to you.” He moves to run his fingers over Daryl’s arm, feeling the catch of the bandage beneath his fingers and able to imagine the starkness of the black stitches on his pale skin. “And to Maggie and Glenn. He’s not worthy of surviving in this world, not when we’ve lost so many others.”

He means every word of it. Shane does not intend to let this Governor live. Daryl knows him, Daryl understands that you couldn’t be forgiving in this world, and though he knew others wouldn’t understand, he knew sometimes you had to kill other people to survive. Daryl had said it himself; Shane kills for those he cares about.

“He’s not going to let this go is he?” Daryl asks, shifting in his arms a little but not to get away. “This isn’t over, it’s not going to be over for a long time and now we’ve managed to get everyone involved in it too. Men like the Governor don’t like to lose and at the moment he’s not exactly winning.”

Shane can see the worry in Daryl’s eyes and the guilt as well. But it’s not their fault. The Governor brought this upon himself when he took Glenn and Maggie, and subjected them to torture and injury just to find out about the prison. The Governor wanted everything he could have; the man had the assumption that his people were more worthy of survival than others.

When he thinks back to the farm, to Otis, to Carl, to making that choice he knows he’d make it again and again if he had to, but that didn’t make him like the Governor. He wasn’t like that; he just couldn’t bare the thought of losing everyone again. Surely it wasn’t the same thing?

Shaking his head he tries to ignore the worries that plague him and instead focuses on Daryl, moving to press their foreheads together in a move well rehearsed between them. “I’m not going to let him hurt anyone here.” He promises and godammit, he means to keep it. “I’m going to kill him, I’m going to take him down. We’ve just found the group again, and we’re not going to lose anyone.” Not if he could help it. “I promise.”

For a moment Daryl simply watches him, the two of them more than able to read each other through more than just words. Eventually Daryl gives a small sigh and reaches out a finger to run over Shane’s arm, resting over his pulse point lightly, the way they would check on the other when they were sleeping. “You can’t promise shit like that anymore Shane.” Daryl tells him and though Shane knows he’s right, it doesn’t stop him from needing to say more.

“I promise I’m not going to lose you.” He promises, he would swear on his life, but instead he simply holds Daryl a little tighter, presses further against his back and relishes the idea of never letting go. “Not again, I’ve already lost you once.” Shane mutters and he can feel the guilt from that goodbye creep back upon him.

“Was your own fault.” Daryl huffs a little, pulling back enough to glare over his shoulder to him, to let his frustration be known. “You should never have forced me to try and choose between my brother and my…” Shane can’t help but give a small smile as Daryl fumbles over the words. They’ve never really decided on a term for each other, but they’ve never needed one. This was enough. “You shouldn’t have made me try to choose.” Daryl tells him and of course he agrees.

“No. No I shouldn’t have.” Shifting a little he takes a hold of Daryl’s hands, stroking over them and keeping him close as he tries to explain. “Things were just moving so damned fast, I didn’t think right. Just wanted to get everyone out of there as soon as I could.” Because he’d been honest to God scared for them all, most of all Daryl. “I wouldn’t have left you if I knew what the Governor would do to you.” He apologises.

Daryl nods and before he knows it Shane is the one being comforted through his own guilt. “I know that. But you couldn’t have known, I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have tried to fool him.” It had seemed so flawless at first, but the damned Governor seemed smarter than they’d thought. “Doesn’t matter anyway. We’re all out of there now and safe.” Daryl nods certainly before leaning back on him, tilting his head enough for Shane to kiss over his neck and the bruises he’d marked there earlier. “It’s gonna be weird though.”

“Why?” He hums, trailing his tongue over Daryl’s pulse point and nipping at the skin lightly.

“We know these people.” Daryl sighs, still relaxed but Shane can tell that this is clearly something that’s been on his mind. “They’re gonna have questions about us ain’t they? What’re we gonna do about it?” He asks and despite everything that’s going on, Shane finds it flattering that Daryl is still worried about everyone’s reactions to finding out about them being together.

Of course he can’t speak for everyone else, and he’d only just returned to the group a few days ago, but he knows these are good people and Daryl’s worries are unfounded. “This ain’t Woodbury Daryl.” He hums, stroking his fingers through Daryl’s hair and enjoying their closeness as he explains. “I ain’t hiding away from people, they don’t like it they can fuck off. Same goes for your brother.” Because really, Merle was the main hurdle in this road. “I behaved myself in his town, well this is my home now, we play by my rules. I’m not having any of his homophobic bullshit spread about the place.”

There’s a moment of quiet between them, Daryl’s fingers playing over the sheets wrapped about their waists and Shane just holding him through it. He knows this has to be a lot to take in, everything in this world either seems to move so slowly you’re always on edge, or so fast that you can’t keep up. Right now it was all happening so fast and Daryl was clearly finding it tough to make his views of the world before fit to this new way of life.

It was obvious that Daryl had been raised in a homophobic household, heck Shane wouldn’t be surprised if Daryl’s whole hometown had been the same. Now was different though, the group wouldn’t care one bit about them, they were who they were and whatever their orientation was it wouldn’t matter one bit to them. But really, though Daryl may be worried about fitting back in with the group he’d been a part of once; Shane knows really this is all about Merle.

“I just don’t want him to hate me.” Daryl mutters and Shane can’t help but hold him a little tighter when he continues to explain. “It’s what we were fighting about out there. He didn’t want me thinking about you, it’s why he tossed your necklace into the river.” And if Daryl sounds upset over that fact, Shane can’t helped that he’d a little pleased. “I would have left him behind. I tried to. Called him…called him a lot of things and left him, but I didn’t realise how bad my injuries were until he practically dragged my ass back here.”

“Not a minute too late either.” Shane reminds him, hating when Daryl puts himself down so easily and thinks himself weak. “Would have been dead if it weren’t for you.” He reminds him lightly.

Daryl gives a tiny shrug, barely even a roll of his shoulders and there’s a pause as he clearly thinks through those moments. Shane remembers it too, thinking he was dead, knowing that it was the end and there was so much left he had to do and to say. Then Daryl had been there for him again. Everything he needed to survive.

“You’ve saved my ass enough times. Was just repaying the favour.” Daryl grunts in reply, not meeting his eyes and Shane smirks a little before resting their foreheads together again.

It’s their way of being close. Their way of sharing a moment together and not having to rely on words or promises to get what they want to say through to each other. Instead they just remain close, breathing in each other’s breath, pushing into each other’s personal space and not pulling back from it. It’s not uncomfortable, instead it’s the most reassuring place in the world to be and Shane reaches up to clasp the back of Daryl’s neck and hold him in place.

This is what he wants, and he’ll fight with everything he’s got to keep it.

“Everything is going to be alright you know?” He tells Daryl, smiling a little when his partner meets his eyes. “With us, with your brother and everyone else. I’m not going to force you to choose between us again, I can behave myself and get along with him, but you’ll have to tell him to play nice. Not only with me either.” Shane smirks and like that they’re at ease again, close and comfortable through everything that they’ve been through.

“He’ll be okay.” Daryl nods, seeming calmer, more stable and there’s not that hint of constant dread in his eyes. “I ain’t gonna let him screw this up.”

“Good, cause I don’t intend to let you go anywhere. I’m not losing you again, not now, not ever you hear?” Shane tells him, feeling Daryl shiver a little and nod in his hold, agreeing with him. He wonders if Daryl’s ever had this before, someone willing to do anything for him, to protect him and keep him safe. Then he remembers the scars that are pressed up against his chest and how many times Daryl had mentioned being alone before.

The world had changed now though, and Shane intended to change it for the better for Daryl.

Shifting his grip on the other man he turns Daryl to face him, holding him in place as he presses their lips together lazily. Daryl huffs a little, but doesn’t pull back, instead winding his arms around Shane’s neck to hold him close. He’d forgotten how good this felt, to just be with Daryl and forget the rest of the world around them, for one moment. Like this is didn’t have to be complicated at all, they could just focus on each other and pretend that everything would be alright.

But it can’t last forever and though he’d love to keep the door locked and keep Daryl all to himself, Shane knew they’d been gone long enough and there was a war being planned for without them. Sighing a little he pulls back enough to simply cradled Daryl’s head in his hands, trailing his tongue over his partner’s lips before resting their foreheads together once more.

Silently he smiles to Daryl, sharing their moment together and he can see Daryl read the question he’s going to ask before he’d even said it.

“Guess we can’t just stay locked in here forever.” Daryl murmurs with a huff, pulling back and standing from the bed to begin hunting out their clothing from the floor. Shane watches him for a moment, catching the clothing tossed in his direction and tugging them on as Daryl does the same. Shrugging on his under vest Shane picks up his black tee shirt from the floor, preparing to put it on before smiling lightly as he notes the problem with Daryl’s current clothing.

Sure the sleeveless shirt and angel wing vest looked good on the other man, hell Shane would never get tired of getting to see his arm muscles on show, but they weren’t exactly the best for coverage. Moving closer he trails his fingers over Daryl’s neck and the juncture leading to his shoulder, noting how the bruises that mark him there were certainly not made out of rage. His partner tries to glance down to where he touches, wanting to seem the damage but unable to do so due to the positioning. Chuckling a little, Shane grabs at the hem of Daryl’s clothing, yanking back off the shirt and vest to leave him bare chested again.

Just as Daryl is about to growl at him about not having time for another round, Shane leans in to kiss him in apology for the bruises and the obviousness of them. There was no way anyone was going to be unsure of what they were and even if he felt comfortable with being around everyone, he’s sure Daryl would like to keep the details of their personal lives secret. Taking the tee shirt he still has in hand, he helps Daryl work it into place over the top of him, the black fabric settling over his bruised flesh and hiding it away from prying eyes. Sure there was still the tiny peek of a bruise at the collar, but everything else was hidden from view and the public for the moment.

Stroking his fingers over the fabric, Shane can’t help but enjoy the sight of Daryl in his clothing. Sure they’ve shared clothes before, but everytime he saw Daryl in one of his shirts, even if it was just a plain black tee, he couldn’t help but love having his mark on him. Leaning in to press their lips together again, he takes a moment to just be there with him, holding at Daryl’s hips and reaching up to stroke his hair away from his eyes.

“Hey.” He keeps his voice low, not accusing Daryl of worrying, but just making sure his partner knows there is nothing to fear. “Ain’t nothing changed between us. We don’t have to act any different from how we were before. No one is going to care what we are or ain’t to each other.” He explains carefully before finding the right words for it. “We’re still just us.”

Daryl nods, meeting his eye with a small smile before they leave their sanctuary and begin heading back to the main hub of the prison. Shane’s familiar enough with the hallways to lead the way, his fingers around Daryl’s wrist in a loose grip, not controlling, but just enough to be felt there as a reassurance should Daryl need it. As soon as they’re in the cell block, Shane tosses Daryl’s unused clothing into his own cell, leading his partner past the entrance to it and instead over to their table area.

He’d expected the group to be here, but instead there’s only Beth and Hershel instead, the two of them sitting by the box on the tabletop with Hershel instructing Beth on how to make a bottle. Releasing Daryl’s wrist he can feel the tension in his partner’s shoulders as they head closer, but Shane’s actually kind of relieved. Maybe this would be easier for Daryl to feel comfortable with if they integrated into the group just a few people at a time.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asks, tugging out a seat for himself and one for Daryl, his partner sitting beside him naturally and peering at the box with curiosity.

“Out patrolling the perimeter.” Hershel tells him, looking up with a smile as his daughter shakes the formula mixture harshly to get it to the right consistency. “Glenn and Maggie have holed themselves up in the guard tower on watch in silent protest of your brother being here, but Merle’s not causing any trouble. He’s helping them to build up some defences right now, Rick says he’s got a decent military knowledge of defence which should help us.” The old man nods, smiling lightly at them both and even if they haven’t said a word yet, Shane knows that somehow Hershel has worked it all out.

“Got the temperature ready daddy.” Beth says, wiping up a drop of formula from her forearm and setting the bottle upon the tabletop. “You want to feed her or shall I?” She asks her father and Shane swears he can see a twinkle of something in the old man’s eye when he replies.

“Actually, my leg’s been playing me up. Damned thing isn’t even there anymore and it still feels stiff.” He grumbles, leaning himself heavily on the tabletop to get to his one remaining foot and tugging his crutches into place in a way that speaks of recent learning how to do so. “Leave the boys to feed her Bethy and come join me for a walk around the yard. Let’s go see how the defences are looking.” He tells his daughter and it’s with a small knowing smile that she follows him, leaving the feeding supplies beside the box and almost skipping away to open the door to the cellblock.

Shane chuckles a little before standing, reaching in to the box to take out the baby and hold her close to his chest. Judith squirms a little, blinking to him sleepily before settling herself in his arms, her tiny hands clenching into fists besides her face. She looks adorable as ever, still so small and fragile in his arms. He can’t help but sway from side to side as he holds her, naturally keeping up a soothing motion as he snatches up some towel to tuck beneath her chin.

Pausing for a moment he finds Daryl watching him, the curiosity from before still in his eyes as well as plenty of unasked questions. “Do you want to feed her?” Shane finds himself asking without even thinking about it, moving to sit back besides Daryl and let their knees press together.

“Me?” Daryl almost squeaks, sitting a little straighter in his chair and looking at the baby with a frantic terror. He can’t help but laugh a little, he’s seen Daryl go through a lot these past few months and really this is the thing that scares him? “I ain’t never held a baby before.” Daryl tells him, glancing up to watch his face and Shane can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Daryl she’s a baby, not a bomb.” He explains and making sure to keep a hand behind Judith’s neck, he moves to shift her into Daryl’s arms. “Just hold out your arms like a cradle, that’s right.” Setting the baby into the crook of Daryl’s arms he can feel the tension in his partner’s shoulders and when he’s got his hand’s free he moves to help Daryl get her into place. “You have to support her head with the crook of your arm because her neck muscles are still weak, and hold her under her butt to give her support and she’ll make herself comfortable.”

He watches as Judith squirms a little, chewing on her own fist and making tiny noises of effort before she finally settles against Daryl’s chest. Tucking the towel back beneath her chin, he smiles to Daryl, seeing the look of utmost concentration on his face as he keeps the baby in place. “I gotcha.” Daryl tells the baby, looking down at her and Shane notices the second his partner begins the same small rocking motion he’d had from before to calm her. “I gotcha Lil Asskicker.”

Laughing a little Shane shakes the bottle again, rechecking the temperature of the formula before inching closer, leaning in enough to rub the teat across the baby’s lips. Immediately she latches on to the nipple, her fingers clenching and unclenching into fists as Shane nods for Daryl to take the bottle from him. “Her name is Judith.” He tells him, nudging for Daryl to tilt the bottle a little higher to help her get the formula she needed.

In Daryl’s arms Judith makes noises of contentment around the teat, swallowing down the formula happily and wriggling her arms and legs in happiness. Daryl nods a little, not taking his eyes of the feeding baby, or stopping his gentle swaying. “Judith is a good name. I like Lil Asskicker better but what do I know?” Daryl smirks, his gaze never leaving the suckling infant cradled to his chest. “You like that? You like that sweetheart?”

It’s an image that Shane never thought he would be presented with in his life. Sure he had the thoughts about a future before everything went down, he had thoughts about kids and a wife and a house with a white picket fence. But things never turned out that way and he’d been alright with rolling with the punches. Now here he was and completely unsure as to how he got here.

Sitting beside Daryl with their knees pressed together beneath the table, he watches as the other man feeds the baby that could potentially be his daughter. Even if not biologically, she was still a part of his life and her she was being cradled by someone else he’d never expected to be here. Somehow through all the mixed up bullshit in this new world and all the death that surrounded them on a daily basis, he’d ended up right here, right now, with Daryl cradling Judith in his arms as she fed. For just a moment everything in the world that’s wrong is shut out and he spends the time watching them both.

Two of the most important people in his life at the moment were alive and well, together with him and safe despite everything the world had thrown at them.

Shane shifts a little closer, closer enough to run his fingers over the small of Daryl’s back through his tee shirt and feel his warmth. Reaching out a hand he gently holds one of Judith’s feet, stroking over her soft skin gently as she feeds and watching as Daryl cares for the baby that could possibly be Shane’s own. He knows this picture isn’t perfect, between the two of them he knows they’d have much more to add and more people they’d both want here, but right now, just the two of them with baby Judith cradled in Daryl’s arms; it’s enough.

He’d almost say that things were perfect. Just for a second.


	26. Chapter 26

Things are not easy for them over the next few days. Daryl finds himself shoved between a rock and a hard place and trying to find exactly how this new life of theirs was going to work. The prison is decent enough and as he slowly starts to find his place back in the group it begins to feel more and more like a viable home for all of them. It’s the people that it’s hard getting used to again.

Woodbury had been okay, but most of the people there stayed out of his way, knowing he was related to Merle got he and Shane up the ladder and gave them a group of people to talk to without him even having to try to be social. Here though it was different. He knew these people, or at least most of them and settling back in to their lives wasn’t exactly easy.

More often than not Daryl finds himself wandering the fences, taking down walkers with a knife to the skull and keeping watch for any signs of Woodbury’s forces around their perimeter. He keeps to himself, doing his best to help with the defences and the other chores but when it comes to socialising, he finds himself at a loss.

Shane seems to have fallen in to place as if he’d never left. Standing by Rick’s side more often than not, knocking the Sheriff’s hat from Carl’s head with a grin as they speak and even cradling the baby. They made a great picture together, a stable family for the moment, despite their losses and being apart for so long, it’s like Shane was made to be there and fell back into step without so much as a worry.

Things were harder for him. The new people were pretty much as wary of him and he was of them, but they weren’t too bad. Tyreese was built like a tank, his hammer causing a lot of damage with one blow but also a useful tool for any situation. Sasha was cocky, the woman knew she was strong and wasn’t afraid to show it, he liked her attitude; it was refreshing to see someone ready for anything.

The rest of the group were the problem. He just didn’t exactly know where he sat with them and things had changed over the winter they’d been apart. Glenn and Maggie were still together, and somehow the farm girl had gone and taken the childish ignorance of Glenn and moulded him in to a dangerous son of a bitch with quick reactions and good ideas. He’d hardened up and now the kid he’d thought wouldn’t last a week was still going and getting stronger day by day.

Andrea was tougher now. The grief over Amy long changed from a blanket of sorrow to a shield against the world. The woman could shoot with the best of them, her gun always ready and a knife at her hand for closer encounters. Daryl has seen her take down a couple of walkers by the fence, and he can see the thrill in her eyes as she kills them, there’s something there that wasn’t before. She’s found her own strength and he’s glad for it.

The Greene’s are the same as always. Hershel still calls him ‘son’ and check on his stitches in his arm, taking them out after a few days and remarking that he was a much better patient now. Beth if still quiet, a little church mouse that got by on the sidelines but there’s a fire within her that is still burning. Maybe not strength quite, but determination all the same. He’s glad they made it, they deserved to live. Even if Hershel had lost a leg, the old man was still upbeat, their guide through these dark times and the voice of reason.

Carol. She was his anchor right now, when things were getting too tough for him to handle, she was there for him and God he appreciated it. The woman had changed for the better, no longer meek and mild, but strong and able to deal with this world. She has hardened, she has learnt how to survive and though he’d never forgive himself for the loss of Sophia, he feels maybe Carol had found it inside of herself to change because of it. The woman doesn’t ignore him, nor treat him any differently from how she had before and he can appreciate that.

Still she is kind to him, sitting with him when he’s had to get out of the damned cellblock because Shane and Merle are fighting over nothing again and he can’t get them to stop. They’re both as stubborn as each other, fighting over him and his time like he’s something to be won and Daryl’s not sure if they want to spend time with him or just beat the other one. So instead he tends to leave them to it, walking away and giving himself space to breathe until he doesn’t want to yell at them anymore. Carol understands. She sits with him, sometimes not saying a word, other times just letting him get it all out. She understands him and even the months apart haven’t ruined their awkward friendship. He likes that.

Most of the days play out as a tug of war, with Merle on one side of him and Shane on the other. He’d told Shane he wasn’t going to choose, but it seemed everyday he was having to dart between the two of them to keep the peace. Of course Merle deserved his time, the man was in a group of people that didn’t know him or didn’t trust him and Daryl knows being in prison again is grating on his nerves. His brother was trying his best, he could see that, but people didn’t understand that Merle had always been a grumpy bastard. The other man’s way of getting through the day and having fun was through causing fights, getting to grind on other people’s nerves was what Merle did the best and stuck in this place he’d get thrown out for that kind of behaviour. Daryl knew he felt confined, but what other choice did he have? So he hangs out in Merle’s cell with him as much as he can, trying to get to know his brother all over again and convince him that this was better than being out there on their own.

At least Shane had other people he felt comfortable talking to, so Daryl didn’t get hit with the guilt of abandoning him on his own. But there’s still the anxious feeling that churns in his gut when he’s away from the other man, the fear of being left again and dammit he just doesn’t enjoy having the other man out of his sight. So he’ll trail in to Shane’s cell every night, ignoring Merle’s words of scorn thrown at him as he leaves his brother for the night, and he’ll find his usual place open. Shane doesn’t hold it against him, he takes what he can get, but Daryl can feel the want in their shared kisses and the way that Shane will bite over his neck harder to mark him up in silent protest.

Mornings always start the same way, with him waking in Shane’s arms, pressed up against him in the too small space of his bunk and sighing a little as the day dawns around them. Arms tighten about his body, holding him close, a lazy kiss is pressed to his shoulder and Daryl wishes they had the luxury of time to do nothing together. But it’s not long before Merle is in the hallway, yelling for him to move his lazy ass and annoying Shane, cutting in to their time together and starting the first argument of the day as Daryl tries to stop them.

Things run much the same way for the first few days, fight after fight after fight, with the baby crying in between, Glenn making threats towards Merle and him trying to stop it all from getting out of hand. Carol squeezes his shoulder in understanding and he tries to get through it all, still fully aware that this place was better than Woodbury even with the arguments and feeling as if he’s being torn in two different direction.

Today is a little different from the usual. There’s a meeting planned for today, Milton from Woodbury turning up with a white flag and a message for them, the sneaky little shit trying to get everything to work out with no more bloodshed. For whatever reason Rick has agreed to go and now the debate over who was going with him had started up and yet again Daryl finds himself in the middle of an argument between Merle and everyone else.

“Hell no I ain’t staying here Officer Friendly. I’m goin’ and you ain’t stoppin’ me.” Merle spits, pacing back and forth and brandishing his right arm about, uncaring of the blade attached and the potential damage it could do. Daryl watches as Glenn steps forward, a sneer on his face and looking unimpressed with the whole thing.

“Yeah sure great idea Merle, because that’s not going to be a smack in the face to the Governor, bringing you along.” The man points out and Daryl has to admit it really might not be seen as sensible to take the Governor’s ex-lieutenant along with them. The man hated him already and he had to know it was Merle who went and freed him, they didn’t need to roll up and cause an argument at an already tense meeting.

Stepping forward a little he goes to move closer to Merle, holding out a hand of understanding and wanting to calm him down before this got built up in to something bigger, but of course Merle can’t shut his fat mouth. “Hush your mouth chink.” His brother spits, sneering to Glenn and smirking when he’s managed to push all the right buttons.

“Don’t you talk to him like that.” Maggie’s riled now, standing with Glenn and looking dangerous.

And Merle is smirking, ready for a fight, eager for some tension to be released. “Wow calm down there Bo Peep, I ain’t gonna hurt your man, if you can call him that.”

It’s enough to get him pissed off and he’s shoving at his brother’s chest, scowling at Merle when he grunts in question. “Merle please would you just shut up?” He hisses, hating that everyone looks to him to control his brother, as if he ever had a chance at that. Fortunately Merle does quieten down, still glaring at all of them, but leaning against the wall of the cell block and willing to listen to the rest of the debate going on around them.

Daryl joins him, watching as the group all try to think of the best plan of action. Of course he’s not surprised when Shane steps forward, looking as cocky as ever and determined, ready to step up to the frontlines if commanded.

“Well you’re gonna need some back up if you really are going to meet with him.” Shane nods, running his fingers through his hair before moving to the table with guns laid out on it. “Can’t be too careful, gonna need to make sure we’re armed for walkers and his bunch of assholes. So we got Rick, Andrea, Ty and myself-“

“No.” Rick cuts him off with a shake of the head, hands on his hips and that quiet look of command on his face. “You ain’t coming Shane.”

And just like that Daryl’s moving to the other man, ready to stop another fight from happening if he can and well aware of the warning signs of Shane’s temper. He’s breathing heavy, looking damn annoyed and his voice is tainted with a snarl when he speaks. “The hell I ain’t coming Rick!” Shane barks, setting off the baby crying again and Daryl places a hand to his shoulder, wanting him to calm down.

“If taking Merle is a bad idea taking you isn’t going to be much better.” He points out, keeping his voice low and meeting Shane’s eyes, seeing the fury there and trying to ease it somewhat. “What do you think he’d do if he saw you?” Daryl asks, and they both know the only answer came with a bullet and all out war.

Shane is silent for a moment, licking over his lips before pulling away from him enough to pace. Daryl knows the signs, he knows that Shane is seeing the sense he’s laying out before him and taking it all in. Before now Shane would have continued running off of his emotions, barrelling forwards at breakneck speed without thinking and doing something stupid. Instead now he takes the time to think, only replying when his voice is calmer and more even.

“But I know the guys he’s got there.” Shane explains, stopping in his pacing to rest his hands on his hips, standing by Daryl’s side as he talks to Rick. “Milton’ll come, most likely Martinez too, I know them Rick.” He points out and Daryl can hear the pleading tone there, but Rick is firm thank God, and smart too.

“Yeah, and you left them.” Their leader says, taking up his gun and checking the ammo before sliding it in to his holster. “Think they’re going to be pleased to see you?” He asks and Daryl feels a little calmer when Shane hangs his head in answer. “You ain’t coming, you’re staying here and helping Glenn keep this place in order. Me, Andrea, Tyreese and Hershel will go to the meeting and find out what he wants.”

Before Shane can protest Rick is moving, nodding for the other to take the guns and follow him. Daryl remains where he is, hand on Shane’s shoulder and trying to let him know that this was the better choice for all of them. Who knew what the Governor would do if he saw one of them there? Certainly wouldn’t be inviting them in with a drink and a question about how things were going. Right now they were living under Rick’s rule in Rick’s home, they had to play by the rules and this was how it was going to work.

As soon as the gates close behind the car Daryl can feel the tension seep back in to Shane. His partner look frustrated, trying to keep it locked inside as the group returns to the cellblock. Everyone looks worried, weapons are all ready to go just in case and Daryl knows they’ve been through some tough times since he’s been gone. They’re not an army, but they’re a tough group and they would be able to cope with whatever the world threw at them. They just had to hope that Rick was going to be able to negotiate a way out of this mess.

“This is bullshit, you know they ain’t coming back right?”

Rolling his eyes a little Daryl wonders why Merle can’t just keep his mouth shut for one day. Leaving Shane’s side he crosses the floor of the cellblock, making his way over to his brother with a scowl on his face. “Merle shut up.” He demands for what feels like the thousandth time. “We need to keep working on the fences, make sure they’re secure.” He says loud enough for the group to hear, wanting to give them something else to focus on other than the worry for their absent people.

There’s a murmur of understanding around the room, the others nodding a little as they move to start the job. Daryl’s pleased that it seems to be working, even Carl looks determined to keep himself busy whilst his father is away and potentially in the face of danger. It’s not the best situation for them to be in, not by a long shot but it was a chance they had to take.

To his surprise it’s Shane that steps up, moving to check on his ammo in his gun and shifting from foot to foot as he looks over them all. “Nah as much as I hate to admit it, Merle’s right. Rick’s not thinking straight.” He says, gesturing to himself, Daryl and Merle as he continues. “We know the Governor, he ain’t the kind of asshole who’s going to have a calm discussion about anything. They’re gonna need back up out there or they’re gonna get killed.”

And with that Shane is moving, grabbing up more ammo and slipping it in to his pockets and he can see the affect it has on the rest of the group. It’s like a ripple of fear moves through them, and that was not what the needed right now. Beth holds on to the baby a little tighter, Carl is looking up to the man he respects so much with a looks of horror on his face and everyone else shuffles on their feet, unsure what to do.

They didn’t need this right now, not with Rick busy and having everyone panic wouldn’t help at all. Shaking his head he tries to help out, wanting a modicum of calm to fall back over them and not have chaos starting up. “Shane, Rick said to stay here, so that’s what we’re going to do.” He tells him, trying to keep his voice calm, and getting annoyed when it doesn’t work as it usually does.

“Yeah well Rick ain’t exactly his normal self right now is he?” Shane points out and doesn’t even have the common decency to lower his voice when he continues. Letting Carl and the rest of the group hear him as he speaks. “Man he’s stressed as hell after losing Lori, we all know it, I’m the only one with enough balls to say it, he ain’t thinking right at the minute. And I’m not going to sit here and let him get us all killed.”

“You can’t just walk back into the group and think you know what’s best for us!” Carol is on her feet, striding forwards, putting herself between Shane and the group. Ever the protective mother she is there, standing up for them all, trying to put him back in to his place and Daryl understands exactly where she is coming from. But right now Shane isn’t listening, he’s on a high of tension and anger and that’s never a good combination.

Shaking his head Shane raises his voice, practically calling them out over everything. “I know Rick better than all of you and right now he’s not himself. He’s not acting right, he’s not thinking straight and none of you want to see it but I can.” He barks, the baby cries and Daryl can feel the worry in the room escalate. “Right now he’s made the wrong choice, we can end this right now if we’re smart enough. One bullet, that’s all it’ll take and this will be over.”

“Shane would you just-“

“You got my vote. Let’s go, you’re driving.”

“Merle!”

But his brother simply gives him a cocky grin in return as he follows Shane out the cellblock door. Leaving him in a room where the panic was practically tangible in the air and no one else knew what to do. Sighing to himself Daryl chews on his thumbnail, pissed as all hell and ready to let out his own frustrations over this whole thing. Moving to Carol he tries to calm her, meeting her eyes when he speaks and glancing to where Glenn and Maggie look ready to break out the handcuffs to get everyone to calm down.

“Stay here, all of you.” He tells him, not wanting to be any kind of leader but finding himself needing to step up in the absence of Rick and anyone else with any sense. “You need to check on the supplies and the defences, I’ll deal with them.”

Carol looks pissed but nods, reaching out to place a hand on his arm in understanding, giving him a small smile as he turns on his heel to follow out the door and in to the yard. Immediately he checks the fences, always alert for any kind of attack from Woodbury and wary of Rick and the others returning from their meeting. There’s no sign of anyone and so he jogs around the building to where the vehicles are parked, already angry as hell when he finds his brother and partner preparing to climb in to one of the trucks.

“Wait a minute!” He barks, stomping closer, crossbow thumping against his back with every movement and fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”

And there’s that grin, that damned grin that makes him want to punch Merle in the face and not stop until he’s bleeding and begging him to stop. “Doing what’s got to be done baby brother.” His brother tells him, blade sharp and glinting in the sun and he gestures to the building they’ve just left. “These people need us to do their dirty work then that’s fine by me.” Merle sneers and Daryl hates that his brother doesn’t think of himself as better than being someone else’s bad guy.

“Merle’s right Daryl, Rick…there’s something wrong with him, he’s broken right now.” Shane steps closer to him, trying to use his calm voice to explain it all to him and keep him from being pissed off. “We’ve got to protect the group and the prison.”

Shaking his head Daryl can’t quite believe what he’s hearing or seeing. After spending so much time hating each other here were Merle and Shane working together on some dumbass plan they thought would work. “And you think breaking Rick’s trust is the way to do that?” He asks, folding his arms and unable to keep the look of complete disgust off his face. “You think this is going to help? This isn’t your call anymore Shane, you don’t get to make this choice.” Daryl tells him, moving closer, letting his voice drop a little. He doesn’t want a fight, he just wants Shane to stop for a second and listen to him. “We came back here to live as a group, as a family, if you do this you’re only going to break it apart.”

For a moment Shane pauses enough to look at him, to meet his eye properly and Daryl can see the emotions built up inside of him. This is a choice that Shane feel she’s had to make by himself, but right now this wasn’t just about them. There’s something else there, an anger inside of him and Daryl would be damned if he let Shane get overrun by his emotions again. Placing a hand on his partner’s arm he tries to get him to breathe, to just think for a minute about what he’s planning on doing.

Shane huffs a little, reaching up to run his fingers over the back of his neck and ruffle through his hair. “Better broken apart than dead.” He mumbles but Daryl can see that that’s not all it is.

Stepping a little closer he presses up against his side, using his body warmth to let Shane knows he was there without getting too obvious in front of Merle. Sure his brother knew about them, but that didn’t mean he wanted to rub it in his face. His partner is still tense, looking out past the fences and down the road to where the meeting is, as if he could know what was going on just by looking.

Of course he’s going to be worried, they all are, but there was something more to this and Daryl gives a small sigh when he realises what it is. “Shane if this is about what that asshole did to me then stop it. It doesn’t matter-“

“Of course it fucking matters!” Shane snaps to him, moving to grabs at his arms and shake him a little, looking right in to his eyes and Daryl can see the worry and anger mixed there. “He beat the shit out of you Daryl, you could have died, he could have killed you.”

“But he didn’t!” Daryl blurts out, moving to grab at Shane’s shirt and tugging him closer, close enough that he can’t move back so easily. “I’m here and I’m fine and going out there right now and screwing up whatever small chance we might have at a peaceful end to this war isn’t going to help anyone.” He tells him, clinging to him, holding on to the one thing that he doesn’t want to lose to a bad decision right now.

There’s a snort from behind him and glancing over his shoulder Daryl finds Merle watching them both. All bad attitude and a sneer on his face. “You think they’re going to come back from this little pow-wow with a way to solve all of this? The Governor isn’t going to stop, you know that Darylina.”

He sighs a little, feeling Shane tense at the use of his old nickname and reaching out to run a hand over his chest soothingly. Merle’s been calling him it more often and they both knew the reason why. “No I don’t Merle. Rick could come back with a deal. A way to fix this without hurting anyone and surely that’s worth a try?” He asks but Merle still doesn’t look convinced, he just looks pissed as all hell and itching for a fight, so Daryl brings out the big guns. Sometimes calm didn’t work with Merle and you had to play dirty. “How many people have you killed since you joined Woodbury huh?” Pulling back from Shane he steps up to his brother, letting himself tense, ready for a punch if one was coming. “You proud of that number? You really want to add to it when you don’t have to?”

“You shut your mouth boy!” Merle snarls back but right now this is a fight he’s willing to have with his brother.

“No I won’t!” God before now he’d rarely have raised his voice back to Merle, but here he was, fighting for these people anyway. “We might be able to solve this without killing anyone else, isn’t that worth a shot? All you have to do is wait until Rick gets back.” He points out, stepping closer to his big brother, meeting his eye and praying to be heard. Merle’s always been in charge, ever since he was little it’s always been him following Merle’s lead, but right now he needed to step up and be the one listened to. “That’s it, just for once Merle, just wait.”

His brother looks pissed, a grimace on his face but he does listen and maybe it’s the way he’d said it, or maybe Merle really is actually growing as a person or some shit, but he feels good about it. Heck he knows he’s grown over the past few months, when he was with Shane and surviving out there he knew he’d come out better on the other side for it, he just hoped Merle was on his own journey to follow him.

Finally there’s a groan, Merle rolls his eyes and steps away from the truck, reaching out to smack at the back of his head with his one remaining hand as he storms past. “You are the biggest pain in my ass baby brother.” Merle tells him and Daryl can’t help but give a small smile of relief as his brother heads back inside the cellblock.

It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and he can breathe again, all the tension leaving him as he slumps a little in place. The past few days have been non-stop fighting or trying to stop fights for him, and getting Merle to back down was a triumph he always took seriously. It was a victory for the moment, a small one but a victory all the same and he’d take it.

Fingers creep up on to his shoulders, kneading at his muscles through the fabric and Daryl doesn’t even flinch anymore as Shane comes up behind him. The other man presses against his back, firm and real as they stand together and watch over the fences for a sign of Rick’s return. For a moment there is peace, Shane just massaging his tense shoulders and Daryl leaning back in to his warmth for the comfort.

“You don’t think he deserves an ass kicking for what he did to you?” Shane asks, leaning close enough to wrap his arms around Daryl’s waist from behind, hooking his chin over his partner’s shoulder to mutter in to his ear.

Giving a small sigh he leans back into him a little, letting his head flop back onto Shane’s shoulder before he speaks. “You think it’s worth risking everyone’s lives and the safety of the prison for something as petty as revenge?” He asks, able to feel when Shane tenses a little behind him, letting his emotions rile him up until common sense doesn’t seem like the right answer. Gently he pats Shane’s hands, holding him in place and remembering when they’d have had a different kind of solution to working out Shane’s anger. Though he doesn’t exactly dislike that method, at least now there was a way to fix things that didn’t need privacy. “Sometimes you don’t get to hurt the ones that hurt you. It doesn’t work like that Shane, the world isn’t fair.” He gives a loose shrug and can feel when Shane moves to kiss at his neck, knowing that they’re both thinking of the scars he’d shared with him a few days before. “It wasn’t back then and it isn’t now.”

Shane grunts in frustration against his shoulder but he’s not as angry as he was before. Daryl knows him so well he doesn’t even have to be looking at him, instead he can simply feel that he’s tense, wanting to act on impulse but holding back because he’d asked. “I just want to make that asshole pay.” Shane tells him, growling a little and his fingers clench on Daryl’s waist.

“You think I don’t want to do that?” He asks, tugging on Shane’s hands to loosen his grip so he can turn around in his arms to face him. “Of course I do. I want to hurt him, I want to make him take back every single thing he said to me and make him pay. But doing that wouldn’t help anybody and it would make me as bad as him.” Daryl explains his thought process, reaching up to hold on to Shane’s shoulders, keeping him close and making sure to meet his eyes as he speaks. He can’t deny that he’d thought about hurting the Governor before. When the bruises would ache, his stitches would itch or he’d remember having that hose shoved down his throat and having to listen to the Governor speculate about his sex life. Shivering a little he closes his eyes for a brief moment, pleased when Shane tightens his hold on his waist.

They haven’t talked about it. He doesn’t want to tell Shane the details of his meeting with the Governor, having him see his injuries was bad enough, he didn’t need the details. It would only piss Shane off more and they didn’t need that. Besides, really it wasn’t a big deal. All that had happened was he’d been forced to drink and had to listen to that asshole jab at him verbally, he’d had worse, far worse when he was younger so really it was no big deal. Even if Shane kept kissing his fading bruises every day and giving him silent questioning looks, it wasn’t worth dragging it all up for nothing.

Glancing back at the closed door of the cellblock, he takes the moment of being alone to lean in, pressing his lips to Shane’s gently before resting their foreheads together. It’s not that he was ashamed of them being together, but with Merle around and getting used to the group again he really wasn’t ready for any drama being seen would cause. Heck he’s fairly certain everyone knows they’re together, but he doesn’t need to be putting it on display for them all. Shane sighs against him, not so tense, calmer now and listening to his every word.

“It would make you as bad as him.” Daryl continues, reaching up to stroke over Shane’s face. “I know you’ve killed for me before, but there’s a big difference between killing when you have to and making the choice to do it. I don’t want you to choose it if you don’t have to.” He explains in a murmur, voice quiet but easily heard with how close they’re pressed together.

There’s a moment where Shane just watches him before giving a dramatic sigh, leaning in with a grin to press a kiss to his lips. “How’d you always know how to get me to calm down and not rush in headfirst?” He jokes, smile on his face and all the tension from before lifted off his shoulders.

“If I hadn’t worked it out you would have been dead months ago.” Daryl points out, smirking in to another kiss and not caring quite so much when Shane is smiling back at him.

They spend the time together checking on the fences, taking out a few walkers and strengthening any points that need reinforcing. Though neither of them can stop from checking on the road every so often for a sign of the group’s return, they’re both less on edge than before. Merle is a grumpy ass the whole time, grumbling and sneering at everyone who gets near to him and muttering about how they’re all going to die anyway. Daryl likes to think it’s his calming words from earlier that stop Shane from rising to the bait.

By the time the others return, they’ve got everyone feeling calmer about the situation, everyone helping out with getting things together for dinner, except for Merle of course. However, as soon as Rick is back in the cellblock the mood changes and Daryl can practically feel the worry seep back in to everyone else. The tension isn’t exactly a good sign when they’d been hoping for a peaceful answer, but he’s still beside Shane when Rick steps up to address the group.

“Did he give you an offer?” Shane asks, hands on his hips and still determined to get this sorted even if it wasn’t using the method he preferred.

There’s a moment of silence before Rick nods, reaching up to rub over his slowly growing beard as he responds. “Yeah but we’re not taking it.”

The whole group seems to ripple in question; even Merle looks confused as to why they hadn’t taken the easier choice. Shane licks over his lips, stepping closer to his friend and though he lowers his voice, Daryl is still close enough to hear him. “What? You sure man? I mean if there’s a way to get out of this without a war then we should consider it.”

But Rick shakes his head, looking firm before looking over to him briefly and then meeting Shane’s eyes again. “No, we shouldn’t.”

There’s something he’s not telling them. Daryl can feel it but it’s clear that Rick doesn’t want to share right now. When their leader looks set to move away to his cell Daryl is more than willing to let him go, but it seems Shane isn’t done yet, stepping forward and calling out across the cellblock, letting the whole group in on their conversation.

“Rick, he’s got more weapons, more men, more training than us. Maybe,” and Daryl doesn’t have to look up to know Shane is rubbing at the back of his head, “maybe giving him what he wants is the only way to stop this from getting worse. What did he want? You don’t have to make this choice alone. Tell us, we can talk it through as a group.”

There’s a murmur of agreement from around him, everyone nodding along, or those that weren’t at the meeting do. Tyreese looks uncomfortable as hell as he sits beside his sister, Andrea looks angry and Hershel just looks sad at how things are coming together. Daryl wants to know, but he doesn’t want to push Rick and if he’s not telling them, maybe he’s not saying it for a reason. Before he can call out for Shane to leave it, Rick is stepping up, looking weary but talking to the entire group.

“You took his eye and something important to him.” Rick speaks slowly, explaining it to all of them but looking on edge the whole time. “Merle took his trust and threw it back in his face.” He points out, glancing over his brother before looking over to them all, face grim the whole time as he explains it to Shane. “He said the only way he’d even think of leaving us alone would be to get something that would hurt both of you.”

There’s a moment of pause, the rest of the group glancing between each other before Shane speaks up, looking a little too cocky considering the situation they’re in. “So what did he want? There can’t be much that he could want that would hurt both of us?”

Merle chuckles beside him, Shane has a grin on his face and Daryl has to admit that there’s not much that they could give to the Governor that covers his demands. But before he can start to feel relieved he takes a note of the look on Rick’s face and the way their leader is looking directly at him. He can feel everyone turn to look at him, each member of the group beginning to understand exactly what the Governor had been asking for when he’d made his demands. Merle looks pissed, Shane looks pale and Rick just looks sad.

“Oh.”


	27. Chapter 27

Shane is pissed.

Well that was an understatement really; he was godamned fuming that some asshole like the Governor was making demands that they hand over Daryl for peace. It was unthinkable. The man had already beaten Daryl black and blue, given him stitches and said God knows what to him, Daryl refused to talk to him about it after all. They would be sentencing Daryl to a slow and painful death if they handed him over, there was no way such a thing would ever happen. He’d make sure of it.

It was the gall of the man even having the nerve to ask such a thing of them that pisses him off. It makes him want to grab his shotgun and head out to Woodbury himself right now to give the Governor a piece of his mind. Daryl was not some bartering chip to be given away in exchange for anything, he was a person, a human being, someone who didn’t deserve to be treated as nothing more than an answer to a problem. Daryl was more than that. Daryl was his and Shane would be damned if the Governor was going to be taking the other man away from him.

He’s sure that if Daryl knew what he was thinking he’d be pitching a fit about not belonging to anybody, but as it was his partner had made himself pretty scarce. Ever since the news had been given to them yesterday Daryl had kept himself hidden away from everyone else, only coming to their cell after Shane was already asleep and joining him in the bunk. He’d tried to talk to him, but all Daryl had uttered was a few curses his way before turning his back to him, feigning sleep until Shane gave up.

This morning he’d woken up to an empty bed and just glancing about the cellblock he knew Daryl wasn’t with Merle either, but had bolted and found himself somewhere to hideaway for the time being. It hurts that he can’t be there for him, Shane wants to reassure him, to give Daryl the promise that they’re going to fix all of this and find another way to end this war between the prison and Woodbury. The problem was when Daryl didn’t want to be found it was damned near impossible to hunt him out. The only way Shane knew he was still in the prison somewhere was because of the crossbow still hanging on the wall of their cell from its newly acquired hook.

He’d looked; of course he’d tried looking for the other man, but to no avail. Daryl had put himself into hiding away from everybody and Shane knows the only reason that crossbow is still there is to stop him from panicking too much. He can only imagine how Daryl is feeling right now, overwhelmed with the knowledge that his life was apparently worthy of being traded for the lives of a dozen or so others. It was probably driving him insane and Shane hates that Daryl won’t allow him to be there, to help and get Daryl to stop blaming himself for all of this.

Of course that’s what Daryl was doing. Sulking and hiding away to be alone with his misery, blaming himself, cursing the choices that he had made and wishing that this had never happened. Of course it wasn’t his fault, the Governor had brought this war upon himself for hurting Glenn and Maggie, and heck even if Shane hadn’t taken his eye he knows for sure that Rick would have found a way to get back at the Governor for hurting his people. The bastard deserved everything that was coming to him and more and Shane knows they are not going to go down without a fight.

Leaning on the railings of the walkway Shane can see the uneasy tension in the group as they sit about the table in the centre of the room. Everyone was waiting, trying to be calm and patient as Rick deliberated in his cell, most likely awake already but fully aware that everyone was awaiting his decision on all of this. He can see that they’re all scared, Beth rocking the baby to keep her calm, Carol focussing on their supplies and Hershel reading to himself, but everyone else looks on edge, glancing every so often towards Rick’s cell and the man hidden behind the curtain.

When Rick finally appears from behind the curtain Shane watches as he looks over the group, a darkness shadowed beneath his eyes from a lack of sleep and he knows that maybe Rick wasn’t in the best frame of mind to make this choice. But he was the one people looked to now, he’d led these people to the prison and now they wanted him to lead them back to the safety he’d promised. Rick looks lost, and moves quickly to leave the cellblock, going to pace the perimeter most likely.

Shane hops down the stairs quickly, raising a hand to keep the group at the table settled and makes a mention of going to talk to Rick on his own to get this all sorted out. Right now they need a decision to be made and they were looking to Rick for the answer. The deadline for the deal was tomorrow at noon, giving them a day and a half to get themselves ready for whatever was coming. And they needed that time to make plans, to fortify the place and get everyone ready for the reality of war and having to kill live human beings to defend their home.

Following Rick outside Shane makes sure to keep his hand on his sidearm as he walks, eyes already darting over the fences and taking in nothing more than walkers there. Good, even if the Governor had eyes on them they were staying back, not making any attempt to get nearer. Moving closer to his friend he can see when Rick pauses in his steps for him, waiting for him, wanting his advice as always and needing him to be there by his side. This may not be his call anymore, but Rick still needed him nonetheless.

“So what’s our plan?” He asks, not willing to beat around the bush when it came to this. Right now they all needed answers and he wanted to help get whatever their ideas were fleshed out and ready to be worked on.

The sunlight on his face makes Rick look older for a moment, the beginnings of a beard mixed with the deep lines on his forehead make him look like a man who has lived a dozen lifetimes instead of just one. When he speaks his voice is heavy, filled with dread and exhaustion as well as a little fear. “I don’t know.” Rick admits to him and the anger he’d been feeling before bubbles up again.

Shifting his weight a little he tries to keep calm, but all he can think of is Daryl being somewhere in the building blaming himself for their situation. “What do you mean you don’t know? You must have thought of something else Rick?” He asks, hopeful but finding that same look of pure despair on his friend’s face.

“I haven’t.” Rick shakes his head, eyes dull and looking to Shane pleadingly. As if all the answers were going to be hidden with him after all.

Running his fingers through his hair Shane leans against the inner fence, licking at his lips and giving a loose shrug. Right now he didn’t have a clue what to do, the whole thing seemed ridiculous, but when did anything in this world make sense anymore? “Well you can’t have been considering his deal.” He muses out loud, mainly to himself, mainly to just get the ball rolling in his brain and get Rick talking to him. Instead there is silence and Shane looks over his friend.

Rick won’t look him in the eye and fuck he knows what that means.

“Rick how could you even think about that?” Shane ends up hissing in his face, all the anger he wants to aim at the Governor being aimed at his best friend instead. He can’t help it, right now they were pinned in a corner and looking for a way out, and the fact that Rick was even thinking of co-operating with the Governor’s idea was mind blowing. They didn’t have time for this shit right now.

For what it’s worth Rick looks ashamed of himself, pacing back and forth a little before the fences, his gaze falling everywhere apart from on Shane. “I’m not.” Rick tries to explain, running his fingers through his hair, tense, lost and clearly unsure of himself. “I didn’t. It’s just…”

“Don’t.” He cuts in.

Right now there’s a fire burning through his veins and no Daryl around to soothe them for him. So Shane can’t help as he gets more worked up with it all, the Governor’s demand running through his head, Rick’s indecision shoved in his face and Daryl’s much felt absence through the whole thing. It’s no wonder that he feels like strangling someone.

“I only thought about it for a second.” Rick tries to explain to him, moving closer, the two of them discussing things as they used to before. But the world wasn’t the same as it was back then, and things have changed. “Just a second Shane, just because of the numbers and everything-“

“Don’t give me any of that ‘it’s better to lose one’ bullshit.” Shane snaps back. “You really think the Governor is going to leave us alone if you give him Daryl?” He asks, remembering back to Woodbury and the sugar coated lies that would slip free of the Governor’s mouth. The man was a monster; he’d seen it in what he’d done to Glenn and Maggie, in how he’d demanded respect by using fear over people. Even worse, he’d seen how dirty the Governor could play, he saw it every evening when he’d check over Daryl’s healing wounds and press a kiss to the fading bruises. Daryl still wouldn’t talk about everything that had happened that day and seeing Daryl shy away from him every time he asked only made Shane hate the Governor even more. The man was not to be trusted. “You give that man an inch and he’ll take a mile.”

Rick sucks in a breath through his teeth, hissing a little as their conversation becomes an argument, both of them fighting their corners for their choices. “I don’t know Shane! All I know is that I want to keep these people, my people, my family, safe.”

“What about Daryl? He’s your people.” Shane points out, meeting Rick’s eyes and seeing the lack of conviction there. “He’s family too. Just as much as I am. I’m not going to let you sacrifice him on the promise of a madman.” He hisses, ready to fight for this, for Daryl.

Stepping forward Rick shakes his head to him, lowering his voice and trying to explain his side of the situation to him. “Shane, I barely know the guy. I know he means something to you-“

“Bullshit.” And just like that Rick has crossed the line. He knows Rick barely knows Daryl, heck practically the entire rest of the group hardly knew Daryl, but he did. Fuck it had been just the two of them against the world for so long, and he and Daryl had become something together. Pacing a little Shane thinks over it all, remembering losing Daryl after escaping Woodbury and having only just gotten him back from that. Rick didn’t get it, Rick didn’t understand anything about them. Shane was not going to lose Daryl again. “You don’t know anything. You ain’t got a clue what we went through together Rick.” No one else knew except for the two of them. “What if, what if it was Lori the Governor wanted man? Would you even be thinking about this if it were her?”

Shane knows he’s crossed the line too, but Rick had pushed him first.

“Don’t you dare bring her up!” Rick is barking at him, but before it can escalate into a fistfight or anything more dramatic, they’re interrupted.

“Stop it!”

The two of them pause instantly, stepping back out of each other’s space to look at the intruder. Shane’s gut clenches in shame when he sees its Carl. No kid should be listening to them fight like this, let alone Rick’s own son. Ducking his head he tries to think of how to explain, running his fingers through his hair and watching as the kid comes closer to them, not shy in the slightest.

“Carl, we were just…”

“Don’t talk about my mom like that.” Carl snaps, glaring at him, looking him right in the eye and Shane can almost feel the months he’s been apart from the boy. Things had happened to Carl, things that he couldn’t even think of and it had hardened him. This wasn’t the same kid he’d been teaching to catch frogs in the quarry, or the same boy that had been lying on that bed after being shot. Carl had changed. He’d grown up and Shane can feel it when he continues to speak. “She’s dead, and we’ve got to work out what we’re going to do.”

Here they are. Two adults being told what they should be doing by a kid and heck if this were any other time Shane might laugh it off, but right now he doesn’t feel like laughing at all. Rick sighs; his best friend looks tired as he sets his hand on his son’s shoulder, trying to explain without being patronising and failing miserably. “Carl this really isn’t a conversation for kids.”

Carl shrugs off the hand, the hat on his head tiled up and revealing a face that Shane remembers having much more puppy fat when he’d left. Things were different now that’s for sure, but it doesn’t mean he’s prepared for Carl’s next words. “I’m not a kid. It was me, I put her down, I did it, and I can handle this too.” The horror of the statement hits him hard, but what’s worse is the lack of affect it seems to have on Carl. The boy looks stern, not upset. As if he’s just stating facts. “No more kid’s stuff right dad? We need to know what we’re going to do.”

Shane hangs his head as it all hits him. He’d missed more than he’d thought and right now he can feel the distance between himself and Carl. He’d fallen right back into place with Rick, all hatred or jealousy or whatever dark emotions had taken over him back then long forgotten, and he’d remembered how to be there for his best friend. But Carl. Carl had grown up so much and he’d not been there to see it, or to help him through it. Guilt wracks through him, but he shoves it aside. He was here now, and that was what mattered.

Rick gives a nod, not trying to get Carl to leave them or their conversation, but instead involving him in it with a stern look on his face. “We aren’t sure yet.” The other man tells his son, not lying, not sugar coating anything about it, but just being honest. Shane wonders when they’d had to choose not to hide things from children anymore. “It’s a hard choice to make.”

But before Shane can protest that it’s not a hard choice for himself, Carl is butting in, watching his father closely. “Why? We’re not going to give up Daryl.” And there it is. Plain as day and spoken with the innocence of someone who doesn’t put any one person’s worth above any others. Shane has never felt closer to the boy than in this moment. He’s proud of Carl for managing to see what his father was missing.

“Carl…”

Shaking his head Shane wants to stop the debate from even starting again. As far as he’s concerned Rick would have to get through him to make that choice and between himself and the look of confusion in his son’s eyes, Shane is sure that Rick is beginning to understand. “It’s not happening Rick.” He tells him, not in a shout, but as calmly as could be. This doesn’t need to be a fight, it just needs to be decided. “End of conversation. We need to think of something else.”

His best friend looks torn, watching his son and seeing how the boy looks up to him in these desperate times. Shane knows this isn’t easy, heck nothing was easy anymore, but when it came to finding a solution to this, he trusted Rick implicitly. Rick gives a nod, meeting his eyes and reaching out to clasp at his shoulder in understanding before heading inside, leaving him and Carl to continuing patrolling the fences while he thought it over.

Things must have been tough for Rick to even consider giving up one person’s life for the group’s safety. He knew things were hard on the road, heck when he and Daryl had found the school in the winter he knew both of them had considered remaining there where it was safe. The group needed a safe place to live, because surviving was one thing, but living was another.

“Are you and Daryl together?”

The question is asked quietly, not accusing, not spat at him viciously, but just asked with the uncertainty of someone not old enough to be able to read between the lines. Glancing to the boy at his side Shane can’t help but smile to him, reaching out to tip up that ever-present hat and enjoy the small flash of annoyance in Carl’s eyes. The kid had grown up, but he was still and kid, and certainly not his kid.

Sighing a little Shane turns to watch the walkers gnaw at the fences, kicking at the grass beneath his feet as he tries to find where to begin. “Carl that’s really…”

“Don’t say complicated.” The kid butts in, shoving at his side to get his attention and glaring up at him. “Or that it’s a grown up conversation. Just tell me, yes or no?”

There it is again, that stubborn streak that Lori had shining through in her son plain as day. Carl is watching him, looking determined for an answer, for Shane to treat him as an adult. Heck, if what Carl had said was true then he had dealt with more difficult things than this. Really compared to having to shoot walkers everyday and take out loved ones, whatever he and Daryl were to each other wasn’t going to be very important in the kid’s world. He can understand Carl’s need to know, and if they weren’t lying to kids anymore then this shouldn’t be kept from him either.

“Yeah.” Shane replies, smiling down to the kid a little. “Yeah I guess we are.”

Carl gives him the most solemn nod in response, looking as if Shane had given him the most important information on earth. Honestly Shane’s surprised there hadn’t been more of a reaction to his admittance, a part of him had been prepared to explain about different sexualities and stop Carl from pulling faces at the thought of two men being together. But it seems that Carl was more mature than he’d expected, or more likely he’d just been raised right by Rick and Lori. Still he’s expecting to have to explain something about their relationship, if only because he’s sure Carl hasn’t been exposed to anything other than heterosexual couples in his young life. Still the boy manages to catch him off guard when he does ask a question.

“Do you love him?”

Shane pauses in his steps to look at the boy, not finding any hidden laughter behind his gaze or anything more than a sincere want to know the answer. Honestly he’s not sure of the answer himself. Heck he and Daryl had never brought the word up between them, same as how they’d never mumbled about what they had being an actual relationship. Between the two of them they just didn’t need words or definitions. They just were what they were and that was good enough for them.

But that wasn’t going to be good enough for Carl, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to lie to him either by answering with something as simple as a yes or a no. Because the fact was nothing between himself and Daryl was simple, it was so much more than that. Instead he meets the boy’s eyes, making sure he can see the honesty there as he answers. “Now that is complicated Carl.” He tells him and he’s relieved when Carl doesn’t push for a more definitive answer from him, because he just didn’t have one right now.

“Then we definitely can’t give up Daryl. You need time to work it out.” Carl tells him; looking up to him with a small understanding smile and Shane can only grin back at the kid’s decision. Carl really had grown up.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Shane agrees, walking alongside the kid back into the cellblock to find out if there had been any progress on their decision.

Rick doesn’t look any happier, but nods to them both as they enter. It turns out he’s made a choice to go and find more weapons, aware that regardless of what happened they would always be in need of more firepower. Shane couldn’t agree more, what few weapons they did have weren’t exactly of a high power range and he’d seen the machine guns that Woodbury stocked. If Rick was looking for weapons then it meant he wasn’t looking for peace and Shane could respect that, knowing that his words paired with Carl’s had had an affect on his best friend. They weren’t going to give up Daryl, and that gave him something to work with.

But when Rick mentions his plan to head back to King’s County, there’s a small niggle of worry inside of himself. Their hometown was far from here, Rick would be gone for at least a day and they couldn’t trust the Governor’s word that there would be a ceasefire until tomorrow’s midday meeting. Still his best friend has made his choice, and there’s the decision for Rick to take Andrea and Carl along with him. At first Shane protests, wanting to go back to his hometown and see if he could be of assistance, but Carl is the one that talks him out of it. Laying a hand on his arm and mentioning that Daryl needed him right now.

It’s with a heavy heart that he closes the gates behind the car as it leaves, watching them drive off in hope of finding something worth bringing back. They needed more weapons, more hope to give these people that were barely hanging on right now.

“They’ll be back before you know it.” Michonne tells him and he’s grateful for her hope. She barely knows these people and yet she trusts them all, leaving her life in their hands and standing with them when really she could easily make her way out there on her own without the threat of Woodbury over her. “Rick knows what he’s doing and Carl is right, Daryl needs you right now.”

Snorting out a small laugh Shane walks alongside her, the pair of them taking out the occasional walker along the fences. “Yeah, really seems it. Barely even seen him since we got here.”

“He does need you. Just because he doesn’t say it doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Michonne says.

“I know what he’s like, and if he’s hiding away from everyone it means he doesn’t want to be bothered. He’ll find me when he’s ready to talk or whatever.” He shrugs in answer, fully aware that trying to look for Daryl would be hopeless right now. If the other man didn’t want to be found then he wouldn’t be found, it was as simple as that.

Michonne gives him a small smile, one that spoke of trust and friendship that neither of them had been looking for at first. He trusted her and she him and through all of this Shane knew he could look to her to be by their side, fighting with them all. “He’ll come to you. Just give him time.”

Shane goes to ask her how exactly she could be so confident in someone she barely knew, when he’s interrupted by someone he really doesn’t need to deal with right now.

“Hey, Officer brother fucker, I need to talk to you.”

Groaning lightly Shane lets his head fall back to stare at the sky above them, wishing that just for once his life could be a little easier. Right now he wanted to at least try to find Daryl, or keep himself distracted by improving their defences around the prison, but no, instead he’s going to be harassed by Merle damned Dixon.

It’s like Michonne can feel his reluctance to deal with the situation, and she’s stepping forward boldly, arms crossed and glaring Merle down with a no fear in her eyes. For someone who intimidated everyone he met, it seemed Merle had failed miserably when it came to Michonne. “Would you stop for just one day?” She hisses to the older Dixon, her teeth bared in what was definitely not a grin as she speaks. “What do you need Shane for anyway?”

Of course Merle is never the kind to back down from a threat and soon enough he’s chuckling, running his tongue over his lips and leering over Michonne’s body. Shane knows it’s the other man’s way of annoying women, treating them like nothing more than pieces of meat, but he’s glad that Michonne doesn’t rise to the bait and just waits for his answer. “Never you mind that my Nubian Queen. Now you just run along, this doesn’t concern you.” Merle sneers, nodding for her to leave them be.

Shane can’t help but sigh as Merle seems incapable of having any kind of decent conversation with anybody, but nonetheless he ends up nodding for Michonne to head back inside, leaving him with Merle and wondering exactly what had brought this on. Normally their conversations began with spar insults and ended in a fistfight, so having Merle actually approach him with words was unusual. Still doesn’t stop him from being on his guard though. “What do you want Merle?” He asks, turning to face the man properly, but keeping his distance.

Merle grunts a little before jerking his head to the side, walking along the perimeter and waiting for Shane to follow before he begins speaking. Shane would be lying if he were to say he wasn’t wary of this whole thing, he didn’t trust Merle as far as he could throw him, but there was something about the other man that was different from usual. Now Michonne was gone Merle seems to have lost his usual bluster, he seems deflated, almost sober and Shane wonders if this is the normal Merle Dixon that resides beneath the surface.

They walk for a while, Shane watching Merle as Merle watches the ground before him. Neither of them speak for a while, but as soon as Shane goes to question why in the hell Merle was leading him away from the buildings and what was so important, the other man was speaking to him.

“You know my brother then you’ll know what he’s thinking right now.” Merle murmurs, not meeting his eye at all as he talks, but speaking honestly for possibly the first time that Shane has known him. “Always been the sweet one has Daryl, he’d do anything to help out others, even if it meant screwing himself over.”

It takes a moment for Shane to let the words sink in, but as soon as they do he understands that Merle has the exact same fear that he’s been sitting on since they found out of the Governor’s demands. “You think Daryl is going to try and sacrifice himself to the Governor to save the prison?” He asks and Merle is nodding before he’s even finished his sentence.

“I know that’s what he’s thinking right now. You’ve seen the way he’s been on edge today, quieter than usual and not wanting to be around anyone. You know he’s thinking about going by himself tomorrow.” Merle points out and Shane has to nods in agreement.

It’s something that’s crossed his mind more than once and honest to God if that crossbow wasn’t hanging from the hook in their shared cell he’d have thought that Daryl would have already gone off. As it was he knew it had been left there on purpose. They didn’t have the necklace anymore, but the crossbow was a decent enough substitute to calm his fears. Daryl wouldn’t leave the prison without having his primary weapon, it meant he was still here; he just didn’t want to be found.

After the initial panic had calmed Shane had wondered exactly how Daryl felt about the whole situation. He knew exactly how Daryl thought about himself and his self worth, he’d seen just how little worth Daryl regarded his life to be and right now it was being brought into question. Was Daryl’s life worth more than the lives and safety of those at the prison? Shane knew the answer without even having to think, but with Daryl…well he just wasn’t so sure. Still it didn’t matter what Daryl thought, not while he was around.

“Well don’t worry, I’m not going to let him.” He tells Merle, making sure to meet the older Dixon’s eye and let him see how much he meant it.

“Let him?” Merle snorts, glaring him down and snarling a little with his words. “You think Daryl is going to ask your permission before he does something stupid? Got my baby brother whipped have you?”

Shane sighs at the usual beginning of a fight between the two of them, but he didn’t have time for this bullshit right now, not when they were talking about Daryl. “Didn’t mean it like that; stop trying to make everything a fight Merle.” He snaps, more important things on his mind. “Whether you like it or not we both care about Daryl, so how are we going to stop him from doing something stupid?” He asks, willing to admit that he might need some help when even he couldn’t pin point Daryl’s location at the moment.

“I’ve got an idea.” Merle shrugs, looking calm about this, as if they weren’t discussing something so important to the pair of them. “But you need to keep an eye on him when he turns up again. Don’t let him out of your sight you hear? He’s a sneaky little shit too, don’t let him give you the slip.”

It seems even Merle is aware that right now if Daryl didn’t want to be found then he didn’t have a chance of finding him. Heck, if his brother hadn’t hunted him down then Shane didn’t have any chance. Still, he was more than happy to promise to keep an eye on Daryl when he does show up. If Shane got his way then Daryl would never be out of his sight ever again.

He remembers those months alone, the pair of them so unused to being apart that it became natural to rely on each other. They’d become a team, a pair, and then so much more. Shane knew that he didn’t want to lose that because Daryl was willing to do something stupid. Shaking his head he makes sure to get Merle’s attention, to let the older Dixon know that he means his words when he says them.

“I won’t.” And he knows he won’t. Daryl wouldn’t get the chance to slip away again and do something stupid, even if he had to cuff them together to prevent it. He was not going to lose Daryl, not again. They’d been split up before and it felt like he was being torn in two, he wasn’t going to let it happen again, especially not if it was going to put Daryl’s life in danger. The older Dixon nods in return, looking solemn about his choice and Shane has to wonder exactly what he’s thinking. “What have you got planned Merle?” He asks, wondering if there was anything more he could do to help.

“Never you mind. Just let me deal with it.” Merle replies, looking out past the fences to the world beyond, quieter than Shane is used to and unusually sombre. It’s not something he’s exactly comfortable with.

Stepping up the where Merle leans against the fence he joins him, voice low when he gets the guts to ask. “Merle, you’re not going to do something stupid are you?”

There’s a moment of silence between them, Merle looking over him, maybe silently judging him or something before giving a small grin and a chuckle. Shane wants to ask what’s so funny, but before he can Merle is surprising him once more. “Did Daryl ever tell you about our mother?” The other man asks him and Shane frowns at the suddenness of the question.

“A little.” He shrugs, remembering freezing nights wrapped in blankets together and sharing stories as well as body heat during the winter. “Daryl said he didn’t remember her much.”

Merle nods, resting the blade of his bayonet on the fence and dragging it back and forth, sharpening the blade a little as he speaks. “Don’t suppose he would.” The other man mutters before continuing. “I was eleven when Daryl was born. Still remember the first time I held him. Went to the hospital to see him and mom handed him over to me. He was so underweight, with tubes up his nose because he wouldn’t feed properly.” Merle chuckles a little, clearly remembering the memory with a fondness that Shane has never seen him portray before. He’s only ever seen Merle as a brute. Someone to be worried about, a loose cannon that could only ever be a problem, but right now, watching as the other man tells him something so personal, he can see the big brother that Daryl had always spoken to him about. “I remember when my old man went out for a smoke, my mom pulled me close, she had a cut lip and a black eye but I remember how desperate she sounded when she spoke to me. Said, ‘you’re a big brother now Merle and you’ve only got one job to do. Protect the baby. You’ve got to promise me you’ll protect the baby.’ She was so scared and Daryl was so tiny in my arms, of course I promised to do it. It’s the only promise I ever tried to keep. I know I haven’t done the greatest job in the world, but it was the best I could do.”

Shane isn’t willing to break whatever spell they’re under right now. Merle’s face seems devoid of emotion, straight faced and his gaze focussed on something past the fences, or maybe a memory that’s almost out of reach. Either way, he knows that it must have taken a lot of trust for Merle Dixon to share something like this with him. Never before has the other man spoken of his and Daryl’s past, but right now Shane was being let in to a memory that clearly meant a lot to Merle. In a way he’s honoured, but he’s also a little worried as to why he was being let in.

Merle sighs loudly, spitting to the side before turning to him again, pointing the now sharpened blade of the bayonet in his direction. A silent threat, but a threat all the same. “You tell him that. And you make sure to do your best to do what I couldn’t.”

Again Shane nods, but he can’t help but ask. “Merle, why are you telling me this?”

The older Dixon grunts out a noise of annoyance, glaring at him a little and ignoring his question deliberately. “Promise me you’ll protect Daryl.” He snarls, and as if it were all a figment of his imagination Shane is faced with the pure brute that Merle Dixon could be again. “No matter what happens.”

He knows he’s being threatened, he knows that this is Merle’s way of showing that he actually gives a damn and Shane can almost respect the man for that. So he doesn’t rise to the bait and begin a fight with Merle, instead he gives another nod, meeting his gaze before answering. “I promise.” And dammit he means it with everything he’s got.

“Good, now fuck off and go keep an eye on my baby brother. I got shit to do.” Merle tells him, stalking off away from him and leaving Shane to wonder just what in the hell did Merle have planned?

Shane ends up pondering over the question for most of the day, as well as wondering exactly how he was going to make sure that Daryl didn’t go and do anything stupid himself. He knows how Daryl thinks, and he knows what the other man’s plan would probably be. The meeting was scheduled for tomorrow at noon, Daryl would make sure that he was there in advance, ready for any ambush that was planned and able to hold his own. His partner would wait, most likely sneak out on his own while the prison was sleeping, using the cover of the dawn to get out and use the surrounding woodland for cover. Daryl would always do things quickly and quietly if he had the chance, so unlike Shane who would rather go in guns blazing and make a scene.

He knew why Merle had told him to keep an eye on Daryl, because the older Dixon had already worked out his brother’s plan and intended for Shane to be the one to stop it. He could do that, now he just had to work out how. Daryl wouldn’t listen to reason, heck the other man was hiding away from them all because he didn’t want to hear about the looming deadline or the choice they were making. So talking about it was out, and he really didn’t want to be fighting with Daryl over anything either.

Staying awake all night was out of the question. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if he was tired for tomorrow and whatever action needed to take place, besides he knew his limits and he was more than likely to pass out before dawn. He couldn’t give Daryl that opportunity to slip by him. The other man could be damned sneaky, there had been multiple times that Shane had woken up to find Daryl’s side of their sleeping spot empty and a necklace in his place. Daryl could move almost silently when he wanted to and Shane knew that if he wanted to he would manage to get away from him eventually. He just had to stop him from having that chance.

The idea comes to him when he’s going through their supplies and cleaning the guns late afternoon, but it’s not until he’s opening the gates and letting Rick, Carl and Andrea back in that he really considers it as an option. They have weapons, a decent amount, heavy powered rifles and automatics that will definitely help them out if it came to an all out war. Running his fingers over them all he mentally takes note of everything, counting ammo, running through the rounds they had and who would be able to handle each weapon. It suddenly occurs to him that they are preparing for an all out battle of gunfire, and the weapons they had here would be firing against similar ones in the hands of trained experts. Swallowing back his doubts, he knows that he has to stop Daryl from leaving and he’s only got one idea that might work.

He’s about to check over one of the rifles when the blade of a bayonet knocks his hand away, not cutting him, but tapping his hand with the flat side. Merle doesn’t speak to him, he just takes up the weapon for himself, holding it close before nodding to him and Shane finally understands exactly what Merle plans to do about all of this. It’s gut-wrenching thought, but their conversations from before all make sense now and Shane isn’t sure if he would be able to stop the stupidity of two Dixons. Whatever worries he’d had about the other man before leave instantly, and instead it’s gut instinct that lets him trust Merle Dixon with his choice.

Thinking back on his words, Shane sighs to himself, running his fingers through his hair and remembering them perfectly. He’d made a promise. Shane Walsh was a lot of things and a man of his word was one of them. He would protect Daryl, even if the person he had to protect him from was himself.

It’s not hard to find what he needs. Their medical kit is full of various pills and medications from the prison medical wing, and there is a wide variety to choose from. He tells Hershel they’re for himself, just something to get him through the nerves and get some much needed rest. He doesn’t know if the old man believes him, but Hershel gives him the sleeping pills all the same.

Crushing a couple into a fine powder doesn’t take much, and he’s careful not to overdo the dosage as he pours them into a bottle of juice he’d snagged for Daryl earlier in the day. His partner had a preference for cranberry flavours and he’d been lucky enough to find some for him, which thankfully would hide any aftertaste of the sleeping pills. It’s not with any pride that he shakes the bottle to help them dissolve, but rather a knowledge that he was doing what needed to be done to keep Daryl safe.

Daryl doesn’t show up for dinner, but Shane makes sure to keep some food aside for him anyway, putting the granola bar and pack of chips into their cell beside the drugged bottle of juice and waiting for his partner to return. He doesn’t feel good about this at all, the guilt churns inside of his stomach constantly, but he knows that right now he didn’t have much of a choice. Daryl was everything to him and he needed to keep him safe, to stop him from doing something stupid and getting himself killed.

But what sort of decent partner would he be if he let Daryl’s only brother go off to take down the Governor by himself?


	28. Chapter 28

He doesn’t want to see anybody.

Not right now, not when all he could feel was guilt mixed with anger in his stomach. A part of him blamed Shane for all of this, for everything. Because heck if Shane had never started this thing between them then maybe none of this would have happened and they wouldn’t be put into this insane situation. But it had happened, and no matter whose fault it was they were here now.

Daryl is good at making himself disappear. It was a talent he’d picked up and honed when he was younger. When there had been fights everyday and no big brother to hide behind when the bottles started getting thrown at the walls. He’d learnt how to be small, how to be quiet and vanish into the shadows until he could be ignored. It’s not difficult to get lost inside the prison, where there were areas left untouched and no one dared to venture further than their own cellblock. Still he makes sure to leave the crossbow in Shane’s cell, hung up on a hook on the wall and a definite sign that he hadn’t gone and run off.

The prison is quiet, the hallway he’s claimed for his own is empty of anything much, a few overturned bunks that had gotten shoved there is all and Daryl has a clear view of the ways in and out. He’s safe, safe enough to sit for a while and just pretend that everything was going to turn out okay.

Had it been so wrong of him to have dreams? To sometimes lie there at night pressed against Shane and maybe plan to have some kind of a future together. Sure he hadn’t ever thought of much, there was no shared apartment planned out or the thought of getting a dog, but he’d thought that maybe they could stay here and be happy. Even with Merle glaring over his shoulder all the time, a part of Daryl had hoped for some kind of safety, someway for it all to turn out alright in the end. He’d just wanted whatever this was with Shane to continue to exist and right now he wasn’t so sure if they even had a chance anymore.

The Governor wanted him. Not anybody else; him.

Daryl wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the meaning behind it all. The Governor wanted him to take his revenge, there would be no quick death, the would be pain and most likely more torture to give the sick man some sense of control. He was the bargaining chip here and it’s difficult to think that right now he held the lives of everybody inside the prison in his hands.

He could end this.

It’s not that he wants to die, heck he’s made a point of living and surviving through everything his life threw at him by this point. But he wants everyone in the prison to die even less.

They didn’t deserve to pay for the shit they’d brought down upon them. He knows men like the Governor, and he knows that he’s a spiteful son of a bitch that needs control and that this was all about getting what he wanted. Right now they didn’t have the manpower to fight, they didn’t have the security of another place to run to and really there was only one option open to them.

He had to give himself up.

Thing is it was all very well with him coming to terms with that fact, but there were two people that he knew wouldn’t see the logic of it all. It didn’t matter that they had a whole group of people to protect, including a newborn baby that Lori had died to bring into this world; Merle and Shane weren’t going to see it that way. They weren’t going to listen to reasoning, not in a matter like this and he knew it was only his words from stopping them before that was keeping them both from running down the Governor themselves.

Merle had always been an overprotective bastard, even if he would never admit to it. His big brother had saved his ass countless times over the years, pulling him out of trouble, ending fights for him and even stitching him up when he needed it. Even if they never said it in words, he knew Merle cared about him; maybe he was the only person Merle would ever care about, and the thought of giving that up was most likely inconceivable to him. He’d never allow it if Daryl mentioned it, Merle would probably lock him in a cell himself to try and protect him, probably so something equally stupid and sacrifice himself of something. Merle was dumb like that.

Thing is, Daryl knows it’s the only way that they’re going to get out of this problem. They can’t afford a war because the prison could get damaged and that was the prize they were fighting for here. The people here, the ones that were Shane’s family, the ones that had fought so hard to survive, they were not soldiers. Sure they could take out walkers, but other people? That was another matter and he didn’t want to put them in that position if he could help it. They would die for sure. They weren’t made to be in a war.

The sound of a car starting up from outside catches his attention and Daryl hops to his feet to peer out the hallway window to the yard below. Through the grime he can see Rick, Carl and Andrea driving away, out through the gates and down the road, away from the prison and the people it sheltered. He knows they’re not going to Woodbury or a meeting, so most likely a supply run of sorts. It worries him, but there is no time to dwell upon it.

The gates are locked into place behind them, Michonne sheathing her katana after taking down a few walkers and turning to talk to the man beside her. That guilty feeling surges within him again as Daryl watches Shane and he can’t help but hate the position they’d been put into. All he’d wanted was to give Shane back his family and to live here with him, now here they were, trying to solve a problem they’d never seen coming.

Even over the distance between them Daryl can see how tired Shane looks. He’s rubbing over the back of his head again as he talks to Michonne, then rubbing over his mouth before he speaks in a habit that Daryl is used to. Shane is on edge, he can see it, almost feel it and he knows that right now he needs a calm mind to keep him focussed on the here and now and not running off on his emotions. Fortunately Michonne seems to be doing a good enough job and Daryl is relieved that she’s here with them. Shane was going to need her.

The stupid churning in his gut is moving to his chest, making it feel tight and annoyingly hard to breathe. Turning away from the window he moves to slump back to the ground, letting himself lean back against the wall and just breathe for a moment. He’s never been the best at making plans, usually his life played out with a lot of rolling with the punches, and suddenly knowing what was coming and not being able to stop it was making him uneasy.

Especially when he thinks about Shane.

They were something. That’s what they called it. Something. But right now it felt a lot more like a promise of everything that Daryl had ever thought about wanting. And yet again it didn’t look like he was going to be allowed to have it. It makes him feel sick to think about, but he knows he’s not the only one sharing that feeling. Shane was probably frantic with worry, pacing back and forth, checking and rechecking his ammo and watching the fences for any kind of threat.

Each night Daryl would return to their cell, Shane’s cell, and roll into the space left for him beside the other man. Sometimes it felt like it was meant for him and Shane’s arm would wrap about his waist so naturally that he’d never want to leave that spot. He’d remember nights in the freezing darkness pressed close, sharing everything and nothing about themselves just to take their minds off cold hands and toes. At first it had been about nothing more than surviving, but somehow through all of the shit they’d been through it had become more about just the two of them.

It had taken a long time to admit it to himself, but he wanted to be with Shane, and from the looks of things, Shane wanted to be with him too. Even if they never really said any of the mushy shit out loud he knows that much. Heck there had been plenty of times that Shane could have left him, abandoned him, and yet here they were now, together in their own weird sort of way. But it worked for them. And Daryl didn’t want to lose that.

But what other choice did he have? He couldn’t ask these people to put their lives on the line to save his ass. What did they owe him? Nothing. Yet they’d let him in, him and Merle even though his brother had been nothing but a problem for them. These people deserved better than to be put in danger because he and Shane had managed to piss off some asshole. At no point was he going to let them be in danger if he could help it, not while he still had a choice in the matter.

Besides, they had the baby to think about. Lori’s baby. And he’d seen the way Shane looked at the baby girl. Whether she was his or Rick’s or anybody else’s, Daryl knew that he couldn’t ask the man to put her in danger. She was their one ray of hope in a shit stained world and he was not going to make them give up somewhere that she could be safe when he could fix this problem easily enough.

It wasn’t going to be easy though. As much as it sounded simple there was a big difference between thinking and doing. Daryl knew logically he had to leave without anybody else noticing, because if Shane or Merle heard him then there was no way it was going to happen. He had to get out of the prison and to the meeting point first, before noon when the Governor was scheduled to arrive and before anyone could realise he was gone. If he left his bow on the wall then Shane would just think he was hiding again, and besides maybe it would be easier for Shane if he still had something of his to hold on to.

The thought makes him rub over the back of his neck and Daryl huffs a little at the absence of the chain. He wishes he’d never let Merle know about the necklace, because he’d give anything to have it here right now. It was just something he and Shane had shared between them, something that he missed and would do anything to have back when he was feeling as lost as he was right now. It was stupid, but it was theirs and he missed it.

He missed Shane.

Even though they saw each other every day, it just wasn’t the same. Not with Merle around and everyone else about. Not that he didn’t want them there, because he did, he wanted them all safe. But things were different with other people there. He was constantly checking over his shoulder, trying not to piss off Merle, not wanting any questions or anything and though he knows they’d never want to go through it again, a part of him misses when it was just the two of them out there on their own. Things had been easier when the only other person he’d had to worry about was Shane. Because Shane didn’t care if he didn’t know some things, or if he never wanted to take off his shirt, or if he didn’t know what he was doing, or if he could skin a squirrel six different ways but couldn’t name a Madonna song. Shane just took him how he was and didn’t mind.

Now he was going to lose all of that because some asshole wanted to take his revenge on him.

Rubbing over his throat, Daryl can still remember the way the tubing had felt being shoved down there, making him gag and choke as alcohol was forced into his stomach without his permission. It makes his shudder to think about, and if that had been the Governor’s idea of torture then, he could only imagine what was coming now that he’d really managed to piss him off. But it would be worth it. No matter what the pain, or the humiliation; it would be worth it to keep them all safe.

They would be safe here. The prison was strong, they would be safe here, and even better, they could thrive here. The fences gave them space, and there had been talk of a farm as well as getting the generators running. It would be a real life worth living, and he could give them that. He knew Merle would mourn him, and so would Shane, but they’d get through it, maybe even manage to work together or something. He’s not so sure he wants to think about what would happen after. All he needed to focus on was that they would be safe, and that’s what he would be doing this for.

The day rolls on around him and by the time Daryl gives in to the inevitable need for food, it’s dark and the car had returned from its journey. Still he takes his time before heading in to the cellblock, much preferring to wait until the majority of the group were asleep, or at least too busy to notice his return. It’s dark as he trails his way outside, coasting around the fences and checking on them idly as he waits, taking out his knife to take down a few walkers where he can. It’s not much, but it feels like he’s helping.

Michonne doesn’t bother trying to be quiet as she approaches him, even though she naturally is anyway. Instead she watches him work, letting him finish cleaning his blade and sheathing it before moving to stand beside him and look at the world beyond the fences.

“He’s worried about you.” She tells him and Daryl can only give a small snort of humour before he asks.

“Which one?”

Tilting his head to the side he can see her small smile in the dark, one he shares at the small joke shared between them. Merle or Shane? It’s not much, but sometimes it’s the little things in this world that helped you to get through. “Both.” She replies and Daryl can only nod in agreement, as if he expected any different.

He knew both Merle and Shane were on edge, thinking about him, worrying about him in their own similar ways. From the lack of shouting he knew that Merle hadn’t caused a fight about the whole thing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t seething on the inside. As for Shane? Daryl knows he’s only still in the prison and not trying to take down the Governor himself because of the talk they’d had before.

Still he rolls his shoulder in a loose shrug, gazing out past the fences and watching the breeze blow through the trees a little. “They don’t need to be worried.” He tells Michonne, idly letting a hand rest on his knife and tighten the grip on the handle to ground himself through the lies. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Michonne asks, turning to look at him properly through the darkness.

And in that moment, just for a second Daryl wants to tell her the truth. He wants to admit that he’s terrified about giving himself up, about how he doesn’t want to die and about how he’d wanted some kind of happy ending to come of all of this. He wants to tell her that the guilt in his stomach is mixing with terror and he doesn’t know if the waiting for the time to leave will kill him first. But most of all he wants to explain that he doesn’t know what to do next. He has no idea how to say goodbye to the two most important people in his life.

Instead he simply nods, refusing to meet her gaze and locking it all back inside of himself. “Yeah.” Daryl finds himself replying, not a shake in his voice or tremor in his fingertips. “Yeah I’m fine.” And the lie slips easily from between his teeth.

Michonne doesn’t call him out. She doesn’t yell or push, she simply watches him for a moment and he knows she can hear exactly what he’s not saying. But it’s like she knows how hard this is, and in return she nods, gesturing for him to leave her in the darkness. “Head inside and get some sleep, I’ve got first watch.” She doesn’t believe him, but right now he doesn’t either. Daryl’s just grateful that she didn’t mention it.

The cellblock is quiet when he enters, dark and dim with only a couple of lights on behind some of the curtained off cells. It’s what he wanted, to be ignored, to be allowed to slip by unnoticed. It feels like it should be easier to just slip away if he could remain like that.

Padding through the block he pauses at the table a moment, the same table that he’d sat at with Shane and fed baby Judith her milk. The same table that had been a part of that innocent scene was now covered in guns and ammo, heavy-duty stuff, shotguns, rifles and others. It makes the worry heighten within himself and as he glances around the cells full of children, full of family, full of people that shouldn’t have to handle such a weapon, he knows he’s making the right decision. They shouldn’t have to go through that.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the wall besides the opening of Merle’s cell, instead he simply tugs aside the curtain and leans in the doorway for a moment. Merle is sitting on his bunk, a book propped open on his leg as he reads and a rifle sitting beside him on the mattress. A part of Daryl wants to ask, but he knows its just Merle taking his pick of the weapons before anyone else got a chance. Still, if Daryl got his way he wouldn’t have to use it.

“You gonna stand in the doorway all night boy?” His brother barks and Daryl can only huff in response.

Typical Merle, asshole to the end. Still it makes Daryl want to smile and that’s a rare thing these days. Stepping inside the cell he lets the drapes swing shut behind him, heading over to perch on the edge of the bed beside Merle and suddenly he’s so unsure as to what to say.

There is so much he wants to say but words have never been his strong point and Dixon’s didn’t ever say any of that sissy shit to each other. His brother has always been so much more than simply a brother to him. Merle was his everything. Heck when he’d been younger Merle had been his damned hero. Though over the years he’d seen the flaws in him, it didn’t mean he didn’t love him any less, just meant there were some parts of him he wished weren’t there. Merle had always done his best to protect him, had damned near raised him when he hadn’t had to, everything he was today it was because of Merle. How did you tell someone that sort of thing?

Maybe there were simply no words for it, and heck Merle didn’t seem interested anyway since he was still reading. So Daryl doesn’t open his mouth, instead he simply leans in to his brother’s side and rests there for a moment. It’s not a hug, far from it really, but it’s about as close as he could get. Merle grunts in annoyance, but he doesn’t pull away and Daryl will take that, especially when he doesn’t know what the future holds for them all. He wishes he could say something, he wishes words were easy for him and that Merle would listen. But instead they catch in his throat and he simply leans into Merle’s heat a little more.

They remain that way for a while, neither of them really acknowledging the touch, but neither pulling away either. It’s not a lot, but it’s everything for the moment and Daryl wishes above all things that Merle knew somewhere inside of himself that his little brother loved him.

Daryl wants it to last forever, this moment of quiet peace between them, but of course it can’t. It never can.

“You gonna sit there all night?” Merle asks after a while and like that whatever moment of calm had crossed over them is broken and Daryl is pulling away with a shake of his head. He feels a little numb as he stands up, ready to leave, ready to say the other goodbye he really doesn’t want to say.

Standing in the middle of his brother’s cell awkwardly he’s not sure exactly how to end this between them. How did you finish the last moment you might possibly spend with someone that means so much to you? Merle is watching him quietly, and Daryl can’t look up from the floor as he finally manages to speak. “Just came to say…” Goodnight. Goodbye. And so many other things that had never been said over the years between them. “Just came to see you is all Merle.” Daryl replies with a shrug, unable to quite look at his brother fully anymore or say what is stuck in his throat.

He leaves with a heavy weight in his chest, and it feels tight around his ribs as he walks across the cellblock to Shane’s cell. It feels like closing the door on one chapter of his life and opening the door to a very separate, new one. But it feels equally as important to him.

The curtain is already tugged aside, waiting for him to come back as he always did late at night and Daryl’s not surprised that Shane gets up to come greet him when he’s noticed. He feels stuck as Shane steps closer, standing in the doorway of the cell with him, standing close enough that they can feel each other’s body heat. It feels almost as if he’s in a daze and Daryl hates that right now when he needs it most, he can’t properly focus.

“Hey, you okay?” Shane asks him, a hand reaching out to stroke over his cheek, eyes watching him closely, close enough to read him easily and Daryl has to tug himself away before whatever strength he has left inside of himself breaks.

Glancing across the cellblock he finds Merle watching them from across the way, arms folded, leaning on the bars and just watching them. He doesn’t need Merle making a scene right now, not tonight when things were difficult enough as it was. Seeing Merle watching them makes him feel uneasy, it makes him want to give in and just break down, so he has to ignore Shane and move into the cell with a mutter. “Not in front of Merle.” As if that was the reason for his hesitancy.

Shane lets him move, but remains in the doorway for a moment and if Daryl didn’t know that they didn’t get along, he’d swear that Shane nodded to Merle across the cellblock. But maybe he’s just imagining what he wants to see. Maybe if he thinks of them as getting along it’ll make things easier for the pair of them after tomorrow. He shivers at the thought.

The cell looks the same as ever, except his bow is still hanging from the hook on the wall where he’d left it this morning. The bunk is still a mess of blankets and sheets from where Shane never made it after getting up, their bags are still tossed on the floor beside it with a few of their clothes and Daryl can see Shane’s holster hanging off the bed post. It looks homely. It looks stable. It looks safe. He both loves and hates that.

“Did you tidy up?” He ends up asking, moving to sit on the edge of the bunk, watching as Shane moves to snatch up some rations from their shelf. A couple of granola bars are tossed into his lap and he doesn’t even bother to protest before ripping one open and taking a bite. His stomach growls a little at actually getting fed, and he can feel the knot of worry adding to a sense of queasiness that just won’t go away. Still he eats, no need to let himself get weak, he knew he was going to need his strength when the sun rose tomorrow.

Shane smiles to him a little, leaning against the shelf and watching him eat, playing with a bottle of juice between his fingers idly. “I figured I’d try to neaten the place a little yeah. If we’re going to live here then we might as well try and make it a bit more comfortable don’t you think?”

Chewing on the granola bar Daryl doesn’t answer. And so Shane doesn’t stop in his explanation.

“I mean sure it’s a prison cell, but we could make it work I think.” Shane begins padding about the place, toeing off his boots and starting to look more than comfortable as he gestures about the place and explains what he wants. “Get some pictures to go on the walls, maybe some extra pillows and sheets to get some colour in here. I’m sure there were even some tables and chairs in storage that we could use.”

Shane looks so damned happy at the thought of getting the place to be somewhere they could really live. Honestly for Daryl a home was simply somewhere you slept every so often, kind of a base of operations, but Shane wanted it to be something more. Sure it wasn’t a family home with a white picket fence and wonderful neighbours, but it was the best the world had to offer anymore. And Shane wanted that with him.

“What do you think?”

Daryl’s not sure what to think. Yes he wants that. He wants somewhere to return to day after day, somewhere that the pair of them could share and look after themselves, somewhere to themselves. He wants the safety of the prison, he wants them to be surrounded by family and people that loved them, he wanted them to have stability and the promise of a future. But there’s only one way that’s going to happen; and it meant he wouldn’t get to be a part of what Shane was describing. This was a future that he couldn’t be a part of and though it’s never been his dream, it still feels like something that’s slipping through his fingers with every minute that ticks by. He doesn’t want to disappoint Shane by not being a part of it.

It seems he’s taken far too long to answer and though he could blame it on eating, Shane knows he’s not one for manners and speaking with his mouth full was more than common for him. So it’s not a surprise that Shane is soon nudging at his side, passing him the bottle of juice and sitting beside him.

“Hey, you’re not still worrying about what the Governor said are you?” Shane asks and damn he really doesn’t want to lie to the other man. So he uncaps the bottle and takes a few gulps of the juice. Cranberry. His favourite. Shane must’ve found it special for him. That just makes the guilt rise inside of him even higher.

Shane gives a loud sigh, leaning back on their bunk to glare at the ceiling before continuing. “Daryl, you have to know that we’re not going to go through with the deal. It’s never going to happen.” And there’s the slight huff of a laugh as Shane elbows his side again. “What, you think I’d let them give you up like that?” It’s a joke. It’s meant to be a joke, something to laugh off, something that would never happen, but God Daryl just can’t stop himself.

“Maybe you should.” He ends up blurting out, fidgeting with the now half empty bottle of juice and watching the liquid slosh about instead of looking up at the other man. “I mean, if it would make him stop-“

“You think he’s going to stop?” Shane interrupts him, angry, snapping and that’s not what Daryl wanted at all. Not tonight. “You think if we gave you to him, the Governor would just let us be? Daryl you’ve met the man, you know that’s not how he works.”

“But there’s a chance.” He ends up whispering, talking to his knees, talking the floor, facing anything except Shane right now because he knew this was the right choice to make. “A chance that we could end this without anyone else getting hurt. Don’t you want that?” Because it is what he wants. More than anything else, he doesn’t want anybody else to die.

Shane is up in seconds; jaw tight with frustration as he paces back and forth across the cell floor in his socks. He’s swept it, it’s clean, it’s ready to be lived in properly and Daryl hates that. His partner is all bottled anger, hands on his hips until one reaches up to rub at the back of his head and Daryl could almost time Shane’s little outbursts by his well known anger.

“What about you getting hurt?” There’s no yelling this time, but Shane hisses the question at him through the dim light and Daryl can only give a loose shrug as he gives the answer that he’s given through most of his life.

“It doesn’t matter about me.”

The bottle of juice is smacked out of his fidgeting hands and Shane is in his face, grabbing at his shirt and yanking him to his feet. He’s unstable on his feet and half leaning on the other man, trying to find his feet with Shane breathing heavy on his face and now he can’t avoid looking at Shane even if he wants to. Shane is pissed, red in the face with grit teeth and Daryl can feel the raw power in his grip, the strength that he wants to use to hit something to let it all out. He knows Shane, and it’s only because he knows him so well that he doesn’t flinch.  

“Of course it fucking matters!” Shane snaps, shaking him and little before releasing his grip enough to let Daryl get his footing. “You don’t… you don’t get to decide that sort of thing anymore Daryl. You matter.” Hands on his shoulders, keeping him steady, one moves to the back of his neck and then Shane is leaning close enough to rest their foreheads together and Daryl doesn’t know if he can handle this right now. “You matter to me, and if you think that I’m going to ever let anyone hurt you again-“

Shaking his head Daryl stops him, eyes closed, but he can feel Shane watching him as they press closer. “You can’t make promises like that anymore Shane. You know you can’t.” He mutters.

“You’re right.” Shane continues, hands now cradling his face and Daryl can feel Shane’s heartbeat against his palms from where his hands rest on his chest. “I can’t promise that you’re not going to get hurt anymore, but I can promise to do my best to stop it from happening.” But there’s nothing Shane can do to stop this, and it fucking hurts so much to know that.

Clinging to the other man’s shirt Daryl feels pathetic, but right now he can’t help it. It feels like he’s betraying the other man, but he knows it’ll be worth it in the end, when Shane realises that he’s safe because of Daryl’s sacrifice tomorrow. Shane presses harder onto his forehead, the pair of them as close as ever, this position so well known between them and it makes the absence of the necklace even more noticeable.

Opening his eyes feels difficult and he hates that he can feel the exhaustion from such a stressful day creeping over him already. He doesn’t want to be tired, he wants to spend the whole night with Shane and let it never end. Instead here he was, already flagging and feeling pathetic for it.

Shane seems to notice and kisses his lips softly with a small smile and chuckle. The other man knows what he’s like, he knows how Daryl would never admit to being tired and so over the past few months Shane had taken it upon himself to ensure that Daryl got enough sleep. It had taken a while to get used to, but right now it feels kind of normal to have Shane shove him in the direction of the bunk.

“You remember what I told you before?” The other man continues conversationally as he kneels to the floor to begin unlacing Daryl’s boots for him. A part of him wants to protest, but his limbs feel heavy, and right now he’ll let Shane feel like he’s helping out. “I kill for the people I care about Daryl, and godamnit I care about you. I’d kill for you.” Shane tells him and Daryl can’t help but shake his head in protest as his boots are placed on the floor beside the bunk.

“But I don’t want you to have to kill for me.” He mumbles and it feels like the words get caught on his lips for some reason. Blinking heavily he reaches up to rub at his eyes, not wanting them to shut, not wanting to be tired tonight. If this was his last night then he wanted to spend it with Shane for as long as possible.

Then Shane is there beside him again, gentle fingers running over his cheek and cradling his face as he talks. “Look you need to stop worrying about it okay? The deal isn’t happening, we’ve got weapons and ammo and we’re ready for whatever the Governor throws at us tomorrow.” Shane reassures him with a gentle smile. “We’ll be ready, we’ll get through it together and it’ll all be over soon. It’ll be over and we can focus on other things, like making the farm, going on hunts together, playing with Judith-“

“And going to the beach?” He murmurs, because this was all just a fantasy and he knows it. Same as their funny little promise of vacations and peanut butter and making out on the shoreline. It wasn’t going to happen.

But Shane smiles again, that gentle smile that helped get them through the tough times and made a flush strike across Daryl’s cheeks when he was the reason it was there. “If that’s what you want.” Shane tells him with a solemn nod as if this was all some promise they were making together for the future.

Whatever strength Daryl has is slowly crumbling down within himself at the knowledge that the fantasy was all they were ever going to have.

There was no future for either of them together because this was his last night with Shane. Tomorrow he would be gone, nothing more than someone to forget. He could sacrifice himself for them; to make sure they were safe and protected against the shit in this world. He just wouldn’t be there to see it.

He’s scared. There’s no denying it and as he feels his body beginning to tire out on himself it becomes more prevalent a thought. What the Governor did to him before wasn’t the worst of things sure, but now he was really pissed off and Daryl had a feeling that this time he wouldn’t survive it. Maybe it would be for the best, but he wasn’t so sure that it would be a quick death. It would be drawn out, he’d be made to pay for what they all did and he knew that he’d barely gotten a taste of what that crazy asshole was capable of.

His fingers are shaking and he can barely keep his eyes open anymore as Shane manoeuvres them back onto the bunk and into their usual position. Daryl is against the wall, sandwiched between it and Shane’s body as the blanket is dragged over the top of them. It doesn’t feel like enough and even though he can feel Shane’s body heat as they’re pressed together, it just doesn’t feel enough tonight when he’s scared and exhausted.

“Shane? Would you hold me?” Daryl whispers as Shane flicks their lamp off, dowsing them in darkness and the fear of never seeing the other man again really takes hold.

There’s a pause and for a moment Daryl is worried that he’s not been heard, or that maybe it’s too much to ask despite everything else that they’ve been through together. But then firm arms move to cradle him, one about his waist and the other behind his neck to bring him in. The familiar position feels more like home than anywhere else ever has and when Shane rests their foreheads together like he has hundreds of times before, Daryl knows this is going to break him.

He never meant for this thing to happen between them. It was an accident, something that had bloomed from anger and frustration into something that now he didn’t want to end. It aches in his chest to think of it ending, but he knew what had to be done. His whole life he’d wanted to be someone, he’d wanted to be proud of himself and now he had to chance to do something that would actually mean something.

Shane would be safe without him, so would Merle, and Rick and Carl and the baby and everybody else. But fuck if it didn’t feel so unfair that it had to be him.

It hurts. His chest feels tight, he feels exhausted and can’t help but curl tighter into Shane’s grip as everything overwhelms him. He’s going to lose this. He’s going to lose Shane and he has to be the one to walk away. Burying his face closer to the other man he loses himself for a moment with his eyes closed, and he can just pretend for a second that everything was going to be fine.

It’s as if they were just spending the night together as usual, pressed into each other’s warmth and sharing breath because they could. Shane’s fingers hold onto him easily and if Daryl didn’t know any better he’s swear that this spot right here beneath Shane’s chin was made for him to fit into. Shane smells of sweat and woodland, or hard work and shared answers to ‘never have I ever’ in the winter. He smells of knitted scarves and shared candy bars, of washed away gasoline and the tang of a metallic chain being passed between bodies to make silent promises.

Shane smells of everything he’s never known he wanted until now.

The world continues turning beneath them, around them people are sleeping in their cells and before long Daryl is fighting a losing battle not to join them. He’d do anything to make this last just one more minute, just to have some more time with Shane tonight. But it’s not to be and he can feel his fingers trembling a little and he clings all the more to Shane’s shirt for some kind of tether to this moment of perfection that he’ll remember forever.

And Shane is there, tugging him nearer, brushing his lips against the shell of his ear and whispering to him in the dark as if it was just the two of the against the world all over again. “I’ve got you.” Shane tells him and God how Daryl wishes it could last forever. “I’ve got you Daryl, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

He wants to protest that Shane can’t say that, that is was as useless as dreaming about peanut butter and nutella and shared kisses on the beach. But he can’t, he’s too exhausted to even open his eyes, let alone say anything. So instead he buries himself closer, loses himself in Shane completely and lets the last night he’ll have here come to a close.

“I promise Daryl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody, I've started the year the same way I ended the last one, writing Sharyl and giving everybody feels. Enjoy and here's to more fics in 2015!


	29. Chapter 29

Shane does not sleep well that night. In fact he barely sleeps at all and the time seems to skip between moving far too fast and crawling by too slowly. He’s caught in a moment he never wants to end, and yet he knows that as the sun begins creeping over the horizon and dawn treads over the land, it’s going to be coming to an end sooner rather than later.

He holds Daryl throughout the entire night. Even when his arm starts to go numb from having the other man’s weight on top of it, he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to let go. Not ever. So he keeps Daryl close and he enjoys the feeling of the man breathing onto his collarbone, he lets his fingers stroke through Daryl’s hair and he enjoys every second of having the other man’s warmth pressed against him. The early hours of the morning come and it just doesn’t feel like enough for the moment.

Shifting down the bed a little he rests his head on their pillow, moving to press their foreheads together in a move so well practised between the two of them. He can feel Daryl’s breath on his lips, he can see the way his eyes twitch beneath his eyelids and the other man is everything he wants to protect in this world. They’d spent so many nights like this, pressed close enough together to know everything about each other. It was a way to be sure of each other’s safety when walkers were roaming around their hideout for the night.

They’ve been together for so long now, ever since the farm and the mess that it had all started off as. He’d never thought that it would turn out this way, let alone this good. It had been nothing more than stress relief and yet here he was, with Daryl in his arms months later and realising that Daryl had relieved a lot more than just stress in his life. Daryl had stabilised him, gotten him through the craziest few weeks of his life and given him someone to vent to. Honestly, he’s not sure if he would have even had a future if Daryl hadn’t been there for him.

Would he have survived on his own out there? Maybe. But would it have been as easy? No way in hell. They’d been through it all together. The ups and downs, from the success of a hunt to three days of next to no sleep because they hadn’t had anywhere safe to stay. He’s been the one to make Daryl smile, he’s coaxed the man through his own tough times and even gotten him to open up in shared games of never have I ever. They’d grown together, they’d become better people together and even if it wasn’t perfect, it felt damned close to him.

Moving a hand to the back of Daryl’s head, he cradles him closer, letting his little finger run over the bare flesh at the back of Daryl’s neck. It’s bare, there’s no familiar feel of the chain there and he misses that damned necklace. Shane misses that he lost such a huge part of his life, but damn he’d toss it away everyday to have Daryl with him. He still misses the image of Daryl wearing it though and the silent understanding they’d had about the necklace being their note to each other. Sure it was stupid in a way, but it worked for them. They’d shared it and damn if it hadn’t felt like sharing everything he was with Daryl.

This thing between them, they’d never given it a name. But it had never needed one when it was just the two of them, because they didn’t speak of it, it just was. Still, even if it wasn’t named, it didn’t make it any less real. Their relationship, their something, it certainly was something. Shane knows what Daryl means to him and maybe he’s never said it out loud, maybe he’s not the greatest with words and Daryl’s not either, but he likes to think Daryl knows. He’s killed for this man before, and he plans to do it again.

It’s obvious that the sleeping pills he’d drugged Daryl with have worked. Daryl has never been the heaviest of sleepers, but it doesn’t seem to even rouse him in the slightest when Shane moves. He knew Daryl was going to be pissed when he finally woke up, but he’d be alive and that was more important.

That was the thing with Daryl; the other man didn’t seem to understand just how much he was worth. He seemed to think of himself as nothing, as nobody worth saving or trying for. But the truth was, to Shane, he’s everything right now. He’s going to keep Daryl safe, no matter how hard it was going to be. No matter what. That’s what he’d promised Merle and that’s what he was going to do.

The sunlight is streaming through the window by the time he hears the sounds of everybody else stirring. The clack of Hershel’s crutches against the floor, the giggle of Beth cooing to a babbling baby Judith and the quiet greetings between everybody. Shane knows he can’t put it off for much longer. But even if he knows it’s what needs to be done, it doesn’t make it any easier.

Daryl looks so peaceful when he sleeps. He looks younger, like all the stresses of their lives have been taken away from him. Shane would love to have this every morning for their future. He wants to have Daryl like this beside him, looking safe and secure, not flinching at loud noises, and he wants the knowledge that Daryl would remain safe and be able to join him back in bed at the end of the day. But that’s only going to happen if he sticks to his plan.

Pulling back from Daryl he sits up, uncaring about what shirt he changes into and running his fingers through his hair to get it to lie at least a little better. Yanking on his boots he moves to grab up his weapons, making sure his knife is sharp and secure before placing his handgun into its holster. The shotgun is a favourite of his, but right now he’s probably going to want something with more range, so he leaves it leaning up against the wall of their cell. It reminds him of Daryl leaving his crossbow in here yesterday and he can only sigh when he can’t put it off any longer.

Crouching by the bed he watches as Daryl stays asleep when he reaches out to stroke back his hair. He knows the other man is going to be so damned pissed at him later, but right now that’s by far the better option. Because he just couldn’t face losing Daryl.

“I’m doin’ this for you. You’ve got to know that.” He mumbles down to him, and though it hurts a little, he’s still glad when Daryl doesn’t even stir. Leaning over he presses a kiss to Daryl’s forehead, stroking over his cheek lightly with his thumb before pulling back. There is no necklace to leave behind, and Shane can’t help but think that Daryl looks far too alone in that bed. But he can’t go back, not when he has a job to do.

Shane makes sure not to look back when he closes the privacy curtain behind himself, blocking out the noise and the prying eyes of the group as much as he can from disturbing Daryl’s drugged sleep. He shouldn’t wake up for another couple of hours if his calculations were correct, but it wouldn’t hurt to just have him left undisturbed.

There is a flurry of movement in the main cellblock and though he can feel it in the air he can also sense the way that it’s trying to be ignored, or maybe just hidden away. Stepping out into the main area he finds Rick looking flustered, leaning on the tabletop near the weapons gathered yesterday and looking as tense as Shane has ever seen him. Sure maybe he should have shared his plan with Rick, but he knows the other man would have tried to stop him and that wasn’t something that could happen. Besides Rick has a way of letting guilt eat away at him.

Moving closer he offers his friend a nod of greeting and isn’t surprised when Rick turns to him, either looking for advice or just for somebody to listen to him. So Shane can give him that for a second while he picks out a rifle and grabs himself some ammo to go with it. “What’s up man?”

“Shane something is going on.” Rick tells him, looking so on edge it’s unfair to leave him like this and Shane feels awful for being so focussed on Daryl last night that he hadn’t thought to even let his best friend have an inkling of what he was thinking. Of course he’s going to be on edge, today was the day of the meeting and he still hadn’t worked out a plan. “Merle’s acting like more of an ass than usual, he’s stalking about outside with a rifle and trying to get the keys to a car.”

Nodding a little Shane pockets more ammo, cocking the rifle and checking it out before letting it rest against his shoulder. “Yeah.” And now there is guilt because dammit he wasn’t just doing this to protect Daryl, he was doing it to protect everyone. “We thought of a plan to fix things Rick.”

And damn his best friend looks pissed now. Shane knows that Rick wants to be in control right now, he understands that he’s been the leader of this group of people for a long time, he has been the reason for their survival and suddenly having him make decisions without his input must be hard. But this was about safety and though Rick looks pissed he doesn’t have time to sit and soothe him properly.

“Shane what the hell are you-“

“Rick please. Please just stop okay.” Placing a hand on Rick’s shoulder he squeezes lightly, trying to give him strength and get him to remember the trust they used to share so easily. “Merle and I, we’re going to handle this for you okay? There was no easy answer to this problem, but we can fix it.” He doesn’t want to say exactly what he intends to do, because he’s not sure if Rick can handle it right now. Not when he’s still so wrecked after losing Lori. This shouldn’t be a problem solely resting on his best friend’s shoulders. “I just need you to do something for me.”

Rick looks wrecked, there are bags under his eyes, he’s tired, frazzled and damn Shane knows he’s made the right choice to deal with this himself. “Shane I-I can’t-“

“I need you to watch over Daryl for me.” He interrupts and lets the rifle sling back over his shoulder by the strap. Moving closer he grasps at Rick’s shoulders, holding him steady and looking him dead in the eye as he tries to get across just how important this is. “I gave him some sleeping pills so he couldn’t sneak out this morning and give himself up to the Governor. He’s pretty out of it, let him rest or he’ll try to stop us.”

He knows it’s true. Daryl would have tried to give himself up, without a doubt, and from the way Rick lets his head drop and his chin fall to his chest, he knows the other man is aware of what would have happened. Sure Rick had brought up the idea yesterday, but Shane had prevented it from ever happening and that was what mattered right now. He was going to fix this.

Rick lets out a sound that is somewhere between a sigh and sob, the noise caught in his throat as he raises his hands to his head. He looks beaten, he looks old for the first time that Shane can recall and even if they won’t be side by side in this, Shane knows he can rely on Rick to be his back up anyway. There’s a moment where he lets Rick pull himself together, he gives him the moment to work his mind around what Shane has already done and he’s not surprised when Rick asks him his next question.

“Stop you from what?”

Thing is, he can’t tell him, because Rick will want to talk, or stop him, or come up with some other plan and he just doesn’t have time for that. Shane’s mind is set on what he’s got to do and it’s going to be done whether Rick thinks it’s a good idea or not. So he simply grips Rick’s shoulder a little tighter, holds his brother in arms closer and gives him as honest a smile as he can when he replies. “You’ve got to stay here and look after everybody.” He points out, playing to Rick’s soft spots. “Carl, the baby, Daryl and everyone else. Protect the prison from any attacks that might happen and let me and Merle deal with the Governor.”

His friend looks so distraught, but that’s why Shane is here, to do the jobs that Rick just can’t quite face in this new world. “Shane I can’t ask you to do this.” Rick mutters, but his eyes are closed in understanding.

Because Shane can see that Rick knows as well as he does that this is their safest option for their people. It’s not nice, it’s not something he wants to do, but it’s something that needs to be done. Pressing their foreheads together he lets Rick feel his strength before he speaks to help ease his fears. “You don’t have to ask me Rick, I know you’d do the same if it were Lori. But the fact is, you don’t have to do this Rick, not yet, and you should be grateful for that fact. I know you could do it, and you will if you ever need to, but not right now brother.”

Not after everything that Rick has lost recently.

It may be hard for Rick to come to terms with it all, but he nods all the same, patting at Shane’s shoulder when he finally pulls back to prepare to leave. When Rick hands him some car keys, Shane knows that he has Rick’s permission and that takes some of the weight off his shoulders.

One last glance back at his cell is all Shane gives himself, because otherwise he’s not going to be able to tear himself away. He’s halfway to the door when Rick asks him one last question and it makes Shane pause in his step.

“What should I tell Carl?”

He’s not going to tell Rick to lie to the kid, but he doesn’t want to let Carl think he’s just gone and left them. Running a hand through his hair Shane recalls the conversation he and the kid had been having the other day and he just knows what Rick needs to tell his son. “Just tell him I worked it out. He’ll understand what I mean.”

Carl would understand that he’d worked out that he loved Daryl and needed to keep him safe.

Opening the cellblock door leads him into the bright sunlight of the early day and he can’t help but sigh a little at the fresh air. There is always the scent of walkers lingering, but it’s a huge difference from the stale air of their sleeping quarters. Steeling himself a little he heads to the cars, and it doesn’t take long to find the cursing form of Merle Dixon hunched in the front seat of the jeep.

Tapping the side of the car he gets the other man’s attention before tossing the keys at him, opening the passenger side door and sliding in beside him. “Lets’ go.”

Merle looks a little stunned, watching him for a few seconds before starting the car. “Thought I told you to protect my baby brother.” The older Dixon sounds on edge, maybe a little betrayed, but Shane’s gotten relatively decent at dealing with Merle recently.

“That’s what I’m doing.” He points out, leaning back in his seat, rifle on his lap and foot propped up against the dashboard. Shane wants to seem calm, he wants to act as if his stomach isn’t tying itself in knots and making him feel nervous as hell over what they’re about to do. “That fucker hurt Daryl before and he’s not going to stop. Not unless he’s dead.” He points out and he watches as Merle seems to tilt his head in agreement before speaking.

“You think you’ve got the balls to do what has to be done?”

That’s something he doesn’t even have to think about. “I’ve killed for Daryl before, I’ll do the same now.”

He remembers the smell of gasoline sticking in his nose, watching Daryl stumble and try to get through his fears when concussed. Shane can recall how he hadn’t even had to think about shooting Dave in the face. It had been instinctive, a will to protect Daryl, he’d acted without thinking and he hadn’t regretted it since. Yes he had killed to protect Daryl Dixon before, and right now he was going out there into the danger zone to do it again.

Whatever he may think of Merle Dixon, Shane has to admit that the man is easy to read. What you see is what you get, and so he’s not surprised when the other man merely gives a nod of understanding before starting to drive. Fact is as much as they didn’t want to do it; death was a part of their lives nowadays. Shane had accepted that and it seems that Merle had to. That was going to makes things a little easier.

Rolling up to the gates, Shane can only sigh as Michonne is the one on duty. This was already difficult enough, but now the guilt was churning inside his stomach even more with the way she was looking at him. The window is already down, she leans on the roof next to him and doesn’t even need to say a word for him to know how she feels.

Michonne is quiet but that doesn’t mean she’s unfeeling. Of all the people from Woodbury, Shane is glad he’s met her. She uses her words when she needs to, she doesn’t make drama out of nothing and Shane can respect that as well as her ability to protect herself. But he’d dragged her into this mess. Michonne had never asked to be involved in this war, yet she had gone with him, and not once had she complained about having to jump in with these people she didn’t know and defend them from the danger that surrounded them. She’d just found her place among them, and never complained about it once.

Licking over his lips he leans on the window ledge, pressing his chin to his palm and just meeting her eyes as she looks at him. She knows. She’s smart enough to have worked it all out and at least she’s not wasting her breath trying to stop them.

All he feels he can do is sigh, moving to rub at the back of his neck as he tries to reassure her at least a little bit. “He’ll understand.” Shane tells her, and all he wants is to believe it himself as well.

She shakes her head slowly, reaching out to curl her fingers into the fence that acts as their gateway. “Bullshit.” Michonne tells him and Shane can only hang his head as she opens the gate and lets them drive through.

He watches in the mirror as the prison gets smaller and smaller behind them, fading out of view when they drive down the road and Shane sighs a little as he thinks of everyone in there. It’s not the ideal situation for anybody to be in, but he was doing what was right. These people needed to be protected and right now Rick couldn’t get his head out of his own grief long enough to focus. But that’s what he was here for, that’s why they were a team, partners, brothers. Shane knows his place, he knows his duty and if it involves killing their enemies, then he will do that for them. For all of them.

They make an unlikely team he and Merle, but really at least he knows the other man has the skills needed to do the job and to not break down afterwards. If you’d asked him a week ago if he trusted Merle Dixon, he would have laughed in your face. But now he can’t think of anybody he’d want watching his back more than this man. They were an unlikely team, but at least he knew they were a team that was going to get the job done.

Now was the time to focus because if he didn’t then they’d be unprepared. “Okay Merle. What’s the plan?”

The man beside him snorts out a laugh, grinning to himself as he drives them further away from home and further into the unknown. It’s clear to both of them that Shane’s plan of ‘killing the Governor’ was not enough and if Merle’s been thinking of this for a while then he’s got to have some sort of idea he’s been working on.

“We’ve got a couple of hours before the meeting at noon.” Merle points out, leaning back in his seat and taking them down the winding roads towards a signposted town. “I figure we got find ourselves a small herd of walkers and lure them to the meeting point. Should give us some cover and something else for the Governor’s assholes to waste their bullets on.”

Shane can understand that, it makes sense and gives them time to prep. Nothing too difficult and so long as they stayed within the car they’d be pretty damned safe from the walkers. Still he noticed that Merle hadn’t mentioned the real climax of their mission. “Alright so we’ve got the distraction part down, what about the rest of it?”

“Shoot to kill.” Merle tells him.

He can only nod in agreement before turning to watch the world go by past the window as they drive.

Then town is hollowed out, barely even a town anymore, it’s more a shell of buildings tainted by death. He can already see a few walkers shambling around as they pull up, lured in by the sounds of life and starting to head their way. Shane sits and waits, watching them stumble and gurgle out a growl at them, as Merle climbs out of the car but leaves it running. He would protest, but the other man doesn’t go far, just into a burned out store and back out a few minutes later with half a bottle of whiskey and a CD in his hand.

They sit in silence for a while, the doors firmly closed, the music turned right up to the point of almost being deafening to lure in the walkers. Shane can feel the window vibrating against his forehead as he sits there, watching as the walkers gather, growling and snarling against the glass to try and get to him. He doesn’t drink; the smell of whiskey reminds him too much of late nights laughing over never have I ever with Daryl during those first nights. It makes him smile to think of it, and he can remember so many nights sharing stories and kisses in between them.

Merle does drink, barely pausing between mouthfuls, taking huge swigs of whiskey and gulping it down. Shane supposes maybe it’s just the liquid courage the man needs, after all it was never easy taking another man’s life. Still they sit for a while, staring out at the world as the walkers gather around them and Shane is perfectly content to just wait, but it seems that Merle has had enough of just sitting around. The music gets turned down to a bearable level, making it easier to hear the groans of the walkers from outside clawing for their blood.

“Why the hell are you doing this anyway?” Merle spits out to him, nudging at his side for his attention and sneering a little as he speaks. “Last time I saw you at the quarry you were screwing the skinny bitch and could barely stand the sight of us Dixon’s. Weren’t no secret that we were only kept around because we could hunt.”

Shane can’t help but clench his fists at the smear on Lori’s name, but he bites back his anger because they had bigger things to think of. He could punch Merle for being a jackass later, right now he had to focus on working with him to get this done. Taking a deep breath he tries to get himself down to a calmer level, and it’s almost like he can hear Daryl in his ear telling him to think before he reacts. It makes him smile a little as he tries to think how best to explain the past year of his life to the other man.

How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened?

“Things changed.” He decides is the best place to start. “It’s a long story. Daryl proved himself, he became a vital part of the group and when we got separated from them he,” saved me, “kept me from doing something stupid.” Daryl kept him from doing a lot of stupid things during those months when it was just the two of them.

Merle nods alongside him, giving a small grunt and raising his bottle of booze in agreement. “Daryl’s good at that. Giving you something to hang onto. A reason to keep crawling through the shit life throws at you.”

It’s strange, but for the first time Shane feels like he’s actually talking to Daryl’s older brother. There was almost even a compliment for Daryl in there. It’s clear that the Dixons weren’t going to be hugging and sharing their feelings for each other, but even a blind man could see that they loved each other. He knows they hadn’t had the easiest of lives, maybe he didn’t know all the details, but he knew more than enough to know not to ask. The fact that they’d managed to stick together through it all and not turn on each other was remarkable and Shane had read up on too many cases of siblings following in their parents’ footsteps and abandoning each other.

He can remember Daryl being so afraid of being left alone when he was concussed and he knows it was a fear that had been grounded in his childhood. For a moment he wonders how often Daryl had begged the same thing of Merle as he had of him back then.

The Dixons may not show it, but he knows Merle cares for his baby brother and a part of Shane wants to reassure him of a few things. It’s clear that Merle is a douche bag, but he knows that some of their recent clashes were because of the protective nature of a big brother trying to keep his younger brother from potential harm. He knows that they’re never going to be best friends, but he and Merle were both right here, right now and doing this to protect Daryl. Merle deserved to know that he understood that feeling.

“I care about him.” He tells Merle, actually turning to face him and making sure the other man can see the honesty in his eyes. “This thing between us, it’s not just screwing around it’s,” Shane gives a small smile and absentmindedly reaches for the necklace, his fingers curling around nothing but air as he sighs. “Something.”

It was their something and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to it.

Merle snorts a little, taking another mouthful of drink before responding with a scoff. “Care about him enough to leave him behind in Woodbury to be strapped down and tortured by the governor.” The older Dixon huffs and Shane feels his chest tighten in worry.

Daryl hasn’t spoken to him about what had happened back in Woodbury. All he ever said was that he’d been beaten and cut. But Shane knew it had been more than that, only every time he’d tried to broach the topic with his partner Daryl had shied away and told him to back off. He hadn’t wanted to tell him and Shane hadn’t been ready to push too hard, not when he’d only just gotten Daryl back. It felt like too much too fast, but now he’s wishing he’d pushed harder.

“I didn’t leave him.” He hisses through clenched teeth, anger riling up at the thought of Daryl being hurt. “I took him with me, saved him, I got him out of Woodbury and halfway to the car before he stopped me.” His voice is raised, and God he hates how damned angry the memory of it all makes him. “He went back, he refused to leave you behind.”

For what it’s worth, Merle doesn’t jeer or rub it in. In fact he sounds pretty contrite as they speak. “’spose you couldn’t have taken me too after what I did to the Asian.”

“Wasn’t an option.” Shane agrees, thinking back to being in those woods and pressed up so close to Daryl. Trying to convince him, trying to sway him and knowing that it was a lost cause. Giving him the necklace as one last thing for them to share. “And Daryl wouldn’t even consider leaving without you.”

“Loyal as a dog.” Merle smirks, but there isn’t any humour in it. “I never helped give Daryl the easy choices in life, but he always chose me.” There’s a pause, Merle sighs and swallows the last dregs of whiskey from the bottom of the bottle. Shane thinks they’re done, until Merle continues. “Until we were out there, when it was just the two of us. Then he chose you.”

Shane doesn’t jeer over it, because he’s sure it must have been a difficult choice for Daryl to make. But it makes him feel complete to know that Daryl did eventually choose to come back to him. Things were so different compared to back at the quarry and it’s hard to think back to how things used to be. But they’re here right now, and Shane needs to make this work for Daryl.

“He’s changed Merle, but he’s still your brother and he still wants you to be a part of his new family.” He explains and he knows that it’s true. All Merle needed to do was make nice with everyone as well as he could, this was his chance to really becoming the brother that Daryl had missed for almost a year.

Beside him Merle gives a sigh, taking off the handbrake and letting them roll forwards slowly, walkers crawling behind them with a loud gurgle and cacophony of groans. “Heck maybe killing the Governor will get me an open invite.” Merle points out and Shane and he share a small but honest smile before he replies.

“Get in line, I’ve got a score to settle with that bastard.”

The music is cranked back up as they drive, it takes time to crawl their way there with the walkers following and not losing interest, but it works. The meeting place is just a few buildings, storage warehouses and tanks, giving them plenty of cover. It barely takes a moment for them to decide on a spot to snipe from, and Shane almost feels like he’s back on the force when they leave the car to roll closer to the spot so they can get out and head for cover without being overwhelmed by the walkers.

It’s like following the routine from his life before, setting up on the walkway of the storage unit, he and Merle at each end and getting their rifles ready to fire. The walkers amble about the place, some still trying to get into the car, others just growling and stumbling about. There’s the itch to take them out while he can, but he knows he needs to save his ammo right now.

He can feel Merle checking on him every so often as they wait and he can’t help but do the same for the other man. The hardest part is the waiting and he can hear the tick of his watch in his ear as he stays beside his rifle and the set up he’s got. It feels like all the time in the world is passing, and every second that ticks by is another second that the Governor is allowed to live.

That bastard hard hurt Daryl, even more so than he’d known. It makes his blood boil to think of it, and his mind can’t focus when all he can think about is what could have happened. After seeing those walker heads in the tanks, he knew the man was capable of things beyond even his imagination. The man was sick, and it makes him shudder to think of what he could have done to Daryl that his partner wasn’t telling him.

He’d seen the bruises and kissed over them, he’d seen the marks from punches and kicks and the way there was evidence of Daryl being strapped down by his wrists and ankles. Daryl had assured him that’s all it was and even if he knew it was wrong a part of Shane assumed that due to the scars on his back, Daryl was more than capable of dealing with that. He’d asked about it, multiple times over the past few days he’d tried to ask and find out about what had happened. He’d tried to be there for Daryl and let him know that he was there to help, but his partner hadn’t given him a damned thing.

Now he’s only more worried about what he’s possibly missed.

Maybe there hadn’t been any other marks over Daryl’s body, but he knew there didn’t always have to be physical evidence of someone being hurt. He feels like an idiot, but he’d been worried that pushing Daryl too hard would just make him hide away more, push him back further and he’d only just gotten him back. Well no more. He was going to deal with this problem and fix things.

When the cars pull up and people begin getting out, he tenses and Shane can feel it in his shoulders when he peers through the sight to start scoping out his targets. They’re here and they move as a team to begin clearing the place of walkers. Taking a peek down the hall they’re on, he shares a nod with Merle before he begins firing. They’re too distracted by the walkers to notice as their own are taken out behind them, silenced bullets taking them down with a shot to the head.

It’s a system; he does it logically and systematically. Taking down the ones on the outer edge, making sure that they’re not in the line of sight of others before he does so. It’s stealthy, it’s smart and he can feel himself just doing his job as the men below fall to the floor dead. They’re taking out the forces holding up the Governor’s power and he knows that if nothing else they are making it easier for their people to survive.

Then he sees him and all the anger he’s been sitting on comes back to him.

Shane has the Governor in his sight. The one eyed man is standing to the side of the fight, a pistol in his hand and knife in the other as he prowls around the place. Looking and acting like a general overseeing his troops on the battlefield. It only makes him angrier and Shane can feel how heavy his breathing is as he takes his aim down the sight and lets his finger rest on the trigger. It’s time to end this and he makes sure to aim for the fucker’s other eye as he prepares to fire.

“Shane!”

The distraction causes him to miss, and though he knows he didn’t hit his target, he doesn’t have the time to check what happened before he’s being forced to defend himself from a walker. It’s caught him off guard, clawing for him and snarling in his face as Shane is forced to try and kick it back. The damned thing grabs at him, rotten fingers grabbing at his clothes and pinning him down as Shane tries to grab for the knife on his belt.

There’s movement above him, a moment where he hears the thud of a knife and the walkers isn’t snarling anymore, but becomes nothing more than dead weight on top of him before he kicks it to the side. Shaking himself from the rush of adrenaline, he finds Merle standing above him, black walker blood staining his bayonet attachment and free hand held out to Shane. The other man grins down to him, chuckling a little as Shane takes his hand, grunting as he’s helped back to his feet.

“Thanks.” Shane nods to him.

“Looks like you always need a Dixon to save your ass.” Merle laughs at him and heck it makes Shane chuckle along with him.

The gunshot makes him react in a way that is purely instinctual.

He dives to cover Merle, but all he can see is Rick going down. There’s blood, so much blood spilling over his hands as he presses over the other’s man’s chest and as he kneels down he can feel those familiar words falling from his lips. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, just breathe, it’s okay.” The wound isn’t on his shoulder, it’s further down, a blast right through Merle’s ribcage and there is just so much blood.

Merle is coughing, choking and hacking as blood falls from his lips, spattering onto Shane’s face as Merle’s only working hand grabs at his shirt. It’s staining his teeth red and Shane can barely breathe as he tries to somehow fix this. This wasn’t meant to happen, they’d come to fix things, to put things right, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Blood seeps faster, Merle is clutching at him tightly, hanging onto his wrist as he chokes on air, body wracked with pain as he just tries to live a little bit longer.

Shane feels himself yanked down hard, crushed to Merle’s bleeding chest as another gunshot rings out above him, there’s the feel of the wall taking impact before the sound of feet running away. Merle’s grip is tight, but Shane can wrench himself up just enough to see the Governor at the end of the hallway, ducking away from them with his gun still clenched in his hand. The anger is back, making him grit his teeth as he tries to get up but then he slips on Merle’s blood, he hears the sound of the dying man wheezing beside him and he knows he can’t leave him alone.

“Merle hang on alright? We can get you back to Hershel, we can fix this, we can-“

“Go.”

“Nah man I’m not leaving you here.” Shane shakes his head, pressing his hands over the gunshot wound, adding pressure like he knew he was supposed to. But then there’s a bloodied hand over his own, fingers slick and slippery grasping at his as best they can and Shane can barely face looking up to Merle.

“You promised.” Merle rasps to him before wheezing for another breath.

He’d promised to protect Daryl. The only way to do that was to eliminate the Governor. Taking a breath he nods in understanding, giving a brief squeeze to Merle’s hand before letting go and standing up. He moves quickly, sidearm at the ready and knife as a back up as he runs down the hallway and down the stairs. Shane stays alert, his heart is pounding in his chest as he moves, using the buildings and silos for cover.

There is the sound of a few walkers but they’re busy with the corpses of the Governor’s men to care about him. Shane takes the time to breathe, to try and remember everything that Daryl has taught him about hunting over the past few months. He listens, he waits and he tries to steady his breathing completely until he can make out the sounds that don’t belong in the situation.

Careful footsteps sound to his left; from around the corner of the building he’s next to. He can hear the crunch of dry grass, the slight slide of gravel beneath a boot and he tenses himself, ready to move when he has to.

Spinning around the corner he fires, not taking the time to aim because the second he’s moved all his emotions have gotten caught back up and stuttered on his trigger finger. The Governor is there, flinching away from the gunshot but moving quick enough to tackle Shane before he can unsheathe his knife. The impact is harsh and in a moment they’re trying to one up each other, Shane gripping at the other man’s wrists and trying to get him to the floor. He gets a foot hooked behind the Governor’s leg but when they go to the floor there is a fight for power.

As soon as he’s got the upper hand, he’s punching at the other man’s face. It’s harsh and brutal, Shane doesn’t give himself time to think as he just lets out his aggression, punching and smacking until the other man is bleeding. The Governor fights dirty, spitting and trying to grab at his face, but Shane pins him harder, digs his knees into the other man’s shoulder and grits his teeth as he punches him again. His anger is almost palpable, and Shane can’t helps himself as he tries to let every single last ounce of it out on this man that has caused so much pain.

“This is for whatever you did to Daryl you son of a bitch.”

When the Governor laughs, he pauses for a moment, just a moment because it’s not the usual reaction to being punched in the face. Still he tightens his grip on the man’s shirt, hoisting him up enough to hear when the Governor speaks between his laughter. “You don’t know do you? He didn’t tell you?” Shane freezes at that, clenches his fist a little tighter and can feel Merle’s blood drip from his fingers. “Means he liked it. How did you ever leave behind something that tastes so sweet?”

“Shut up!” He hits him again and again and again. Grabbing at the man’s collar and lifting him high enough to snarl in his face. “You don’t get to say anything about Daryl, you don’t even get to think about him you hear?” Shane snarls, fingers clenched hard, gripping tight enough to hurt as he tries to get through to the Governor.

“Oh but I do, I think about him all the time Shane.” The other man smirks, blood trickling down his chin as he looks up to Shane with his one eye. “I think about him moaning, and begging me to stop. Do you know how deep he likes it?”

It’s too much and he can feel the anger taking over him. There is no technique anymore, and he’s just hitting and punching, snarling and swearing as much as he can. He wants to hurt the other man, no, he wants to kill him. Not with his gun, not with his knife, but with his bare hands. “You motherfucker.” Shane hisses, and he doesn’t care about anything else in the world except for causing as much pain to this man as possible. “You’re never gonna touch him again. You’re never gonna hurt him again.”

His fingers slide around the other man’s neck easily, like they were made to fit there. Shane leans over him and he can see the realisation of what is happening flicker in the Governor’s eyes. Adding pressure to the other man’s windpipe, the colour changes in his face. The stained red of Shane’s fingers wrap about the man’s throat, and soon enough the man’s face is turning the same colour as he’s deprived of oxygen. It shouldn’t feel so good to see the Governor struggle for air, to feel the life of him start to seep out. But it’s a spike of exhilaration, to know that this would be over, that he’d fixed it as well as he could and kept Daryl safe.

“Shane? Merle?”

It only takes a second, just a split second for Shane to lose concentration. His fingers lose their tight seal over the Governor’s windpipe and it all goes to hell. Just the sound of Daryl calling for him is enough to snap Shane from his focussed anger, and before he can get back to restraining the other man, the Governor has his moment to strike. There’s no time for Shane to grab at his wrist, to stop the Governor from throwing his arm to the side and grabbing the discarded pistol.

The gunshot is deafening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gorgeous artwork set in WoD Universe in the future. By the wonderful Saya: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3831730/chapters/8546602?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_28626766
> 
> It's fantastic. I highly recommend you follow her and take a look at her amazing artwork. And now I want to start writing the sequel already. Saya is so inspiring!


	30. Chapter 30

There are things that Daryl has gotten used to since the world got flipped onto its head with the walkers spreading. He’s used to sleeping where and when he can. He’s used to waking up at the first sound of danger. But most importantly he’s used to waking up with the warmth of Shane against him and his partner’s arms wrapped about his body.

So there are multiple reasons why things feel wrong when he wakes up this morning.

At first he simply stirs. Eyes still closed, bare feet rubbing against the blanket over him, ears picking up on the sounds that fill the prison. He can hear the quiet chatter of conversation out in the main area, the clink of bowls and mugs as people eat and drink their fill. Slowly he opens his eyes, it’s more difficult than usual and for a moment Daryl simply remains there in the bed, lying and watching the ceiling as he tries to get himself to wake up.

He’s sluggish, body moving slower than usual when he sits up, finding things are a little more uncoordinated, his fingers feel clumsy and it takes three attempts to get detangled from the blanket and get his feet inside his boots. There’s a thought at the back of his mind. Something he knows should be important, like a memory he can’t quiet grasp for the moment.

Shane isn’t here and that’s wrong of course. He usually woke up in his arms, with his nose buried in his shirt and almost choking on the other man’s scent. Mornings were usually spent in silence together, groaning at having to cope with the world again and wishing they had the luxury of spending the morning just lying together. Sometimes Shane would talk about the future as if they had it all just waiting for them. An apartment for the two of them, with lazy Sunday mornings spent just rolling about in bed and waking up slowly.

But that’s not the way things are. He’s still in the prison, waking up alone instead of with Shane as normal and he knows that’s not right at all. Getting up he stumbles over to the sink in the corner, uses a bottle of water to splash on his face, trying to wake himself up out of this fog that surrounds him. It’s like waking from a dream and he’s stumbling through it, lost in the final dregs left and unable to get himself free from them at all.

Grabbing up the crossbow always helps himself feel more grounded, and he swings it onto his back, remembering not having had it all day yesterday. He’d not been around yesterday. He’d been hiding. Hiding because he didn’t want to talk to anybody. Because he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye until later on. He’d said goodbye.

Shit. What time was it?

He’s never slept in before. Even without an alarm clock he’d always been good at getting up on time, maybe it was years of barely sleeping more than a few hours at a time, but he was good at not oversleeping. So why now?

Daryl rubs at his eyes hard, can feel himself breathing heavily as he sheathes his knife, checks around the cell and finds all of Shane’s weapons missing. He’s overslept. This wasn’t the plan; this wasn’t the plan at all. He’d been going to give himself up, he’d been prepared to leave early, sneak out and go sacrifice himself, but here he was, still here and it certainly wasn’t early enough to sneak out before everyone else awoke. It was wrong. It was so wrong.

“Shane?” He calls, ripping aside the privacy curtain that hangs at the doorway of their cell and stepping out onto the walkway. Immediately the noise of chatter stops and he’s all too aware of everybody watching him, their eyes following his movements as he heads down the stairs to the main table where everybody sits. “Where’s Shane?” It’s easy to feel the other man’s absence. It feels like Daryl always knows where he is at all times, but right now Shane isn’t there and there is a feeling of panic starting in his chest.

Everyone looks at each other, some look unsure, others just look to Rick. Rick. Of course if anybody was going to know where Shane was it was his best friend. So it’s no surprise that the ex-cop stands up from the table, moves over to him and nods for Daryl to follow. But he’s not smiling; there is no false sense of comfort being given as Daryl and he walk away from the group.

Rick sighs, one hand on the back of his neck, imitating Shane in a way that makes Daryl feel even more on edge. “Daryl, I need to talk to you.” He says and already Daryl is holding tightly onto the strap of his bow, grounding himself as his heart pounds harder in his chest.

“What time is it?” He asks, stopping Rick before he can start and reaching out to grab at the other man’s wrist. His watch is still there; still ticking away time like it even mattered anymore. It’s almost midday and Daryl feels sick. He was going to be late, and he had a feeling he knew what was going on. “Why didn’t you wake me? Where’s Shane?” And looking about the place, hearing the lack of arguments around the place he notices another presence missing. “Where’s Merle?” If he had any hope left, it faded immediately at the realisation that his brother was gone too.

He’s breathing heavily, chest feeling tight and he knows he’s still gripping Rick’s wrist a little too tightly as he tries to come to terms with what’s happening. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid. Shane and Merle had already tried this before when Rick had gone to the first meeting, he’d been able to stop them then, but now he’d been stupid enough to sleep through them leaving. This was all his fault. They’d gone out there to do his job for him.

It wasn’t like Daryl didn’t know what going to the meeting entailed. There was no way that Shane or Merle had gone to talk, and the Governor wasn’t going to listen to two men who had betrayed him. With Daryl as the only available thing for trade there was no way there was going to be a civil outcome to all of this and Daryl can feel the fear creep up inside of him.

It had been a suicide mission to begin with, but it had been _his_ suicide mission, not theirs. He’d come to terms with what he had to do to save them all and he’d taken the time to say goodbye. Now here he was, left behind and fucking lost because Shane and Merle had left him behind and gone to fix the problems he’d caused in the first place. It wasn’t fair and he finds himself bringing his hands up to yank on his hair as he yells out in frustration.

The group seem worried but he doesn’t care, ignores them as a hand falls on his shoulder. “Daryl I need you to calm down.” Rick tells him and Daryl can’t help the pure rage that comes out as he turns on the other man. He shoves him back, moving forward to get in Rick’s face, ready to punch, to fight, to scream just to feel as if he’s doing something to help this situation.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Daryl ends up barking, noting that Rick takes his shoves without question and lets him vent. “You know the Governor hates both of their guts, an’ you let them go? What the fuck Rick? You don’t know what he’s capable of, you don’t know what he did to me back there and now you went and let my brother and my-“ The words catch in his throat, he snarls in anger and shoves at Rick again before continuing. “And your best friend go to face him and his group? Two against all of them Rick? What do you think their chances are out there?”

“Better than yours would have been if you’d gone on your own.” Rick points out to him.

He knows that, but that had been the plan. Trade one life for everybody else’s. They would have been safe here. He could have saved them all and now here they were, still stuck not knowing, with the Governor maybe out there having already taken out two of their own. It makes his stomach churn with worry and he can barely stand to be here anymore.

“Shane told me to let you sleep. He didn’t want you to go and do something stupid.” Rick tells him and of course it had been Shane’s idea. The man was an idiot, always running off on emotions instead of actually thinking things through. He decided what should happen based on what he wanted instead of what made the most sense. Now he was out there because he’d gone and thought that Daryl was worth more than he actually was.

Merle probably had something to do with it too. His big brother wasn’t the kind to be lead into anything and most likely he helped with the tactics of it all. Damn he knew they were more alike than they’d realised, but he hadn’t meant for them to go off to try and kill the Governor as some sort of suicidal bonding mission.

“So you let him do something stupid instead?” Daryl growls out, his whole body feels tense with anger and he knows he doesn’t have the time to linger on this any longer. Shaking his head he ignores as Rick tries to reach out for him again, grips the crossbow strap tighter and starts heading out of the building and into the yard. “Don’t follow me.” He barks out and he’s pretty sure that right now they know he doesn’t need any of them.

He’s never needed anybody before now and he still didn’t. The baby starts to cry as he slams the door behind himself but he doesn’t care, right now he doesn’t much care about anything other than getting to the meeting as soon as he can and stopping the pair of them from doing something stupid.

It all feels very methodical as he gets the car started, honestly he’s barely even thinking as he gets it moving, crossbow on the passenger seat beside him and driving down to the gates. Michonne is there and she looks so sombre. It makes him feel sick, his stomach is tight and he doesn’t roll down the window when she tries to speak to him. Instead he just waits for her to open the gates and drives through and down the road as soon as he can.

Daryl knows he’s tense as he drives at top speed, his fingers are clenched so tightly around the steering wheel that it hurts, but it’s a good hurt, it helps to ground himself from the whirlwind of emotions flying through his head at the moment. He’s never been so good with hiding how he feels, Merle always used to take the piss out of him for it. Mocking how he would cry when he was upset, shout when he was angry and have a childish temper tantrum if he was frustrated. But it’s just how he was and right now he can feel the stress getting to him, making his eyes water and his chest feel tight.

He knows he has to try to be positive about this. Maybe he’s going to get there in time. He’ll be able to give himself up to the Governor and save them all, heck he’s driving as fast as he can, it won’t take more than a few minutes to get there. He can make it, then he can explain the mistake and let the Governor take him back. His arm itches at the thought of going back there, and his throat feels tight as he remembers being forced to drink from that tubing and funnel, but he’d rather have that. Daryl would rather go through all of that and ten times worse to make sure that everybody else got away safely. It’s not like he hasn’t survived worse and hell even if he didn’t survive in the end, it would be worth it.

It had taken him all day yesterday to come to terms with what was going to happen to him, he’d taken the time to say goodbye and get over his own stupid emotions to do what was right and now this is what happened? He’d thought Shane had understood, or at least he’d hoped that Shane knew how he felt about him. So why had he done this to him?

Their something. That’s what they called it. They had a something between them that had grown into something he wanted, something he didn’t want to lose and he’d even gone and accepted that. Daryl knew the apocalypse would change a lot of things, but he’d never figured it would change himself for the better. When he was with Shane, he was happy, things were better, he was calmer and it was like they just fit together. It worked for them, and right now it felt like everything they’d worked towards was falling apart.

Shane had gone off without him. Fucking run off headfirst into danger without thinking it through. This is why the other man needed him, because Shane didn’t fucking think sometimes. His partner always let his emotions overwhelm him; he got caught up in his head instead of thinking about the outcome and how it could affect everybody else. Daryl knew Shane was the kind of guy that cared, heck sometimes he cared too much. He knew the other man had done everything to save Lori and Carl, and now almost a year down the line, he’d gone and everything he could to save Daryl. Sometimes Shane didn’t think. Didn’t realise that losing Daryl wasn’t going to be as big of a deal as losing the prison to the Governor.

God everything was so screwed up. Shane didn’t have the ability to think things through, he’d run in headfirst, he’d do something stupid and get overwhelmed with his rage at the Governor. When it came to a fight emotions made you weak, Shane would get distracted and end up letting himself get caught off guard. The Governor wasn’t stupid, if he saw Shane he knew exactly how to get to him, bringing up what he’d done to Daryl would be enough and Shane wouldn’t be able to focus after that. He’s afraid for him, because Shane shouldn’t be out there covering for his mistakes.

Merle though. Daryl was used to Merle covering his ass. Honestly he doesn’t know if he’s more pissed or pleased that his brother had gone along with Shane’s plan. In a way it’s a good thing, because Merle can keep a level head and plan things out. If they’ve gone together then Merle would have planned it all, Merle would have a handle on the situation and probably be able to keep Shane in line enough to not run in headfirst. God he hopes his brother hadn’t gone and let his hatred of Shane overcome his common sense. They knew the Governor was a military minded man; Merle would have the sense to at least have a plan of action.

Before this whole end of the world thing, it had always been just him and Merle. His brother had looked after him since forever; heck Merle had practically raised him. When he was younger Daryl remembers thinking of Merle as more than a brother, he was like a parent was supposed to be, he cared and tried to look after him as much as he could. He’d idolised him despite his flaws, because who else did he have to look up to? Really Merle had been all he’d had before now, before Shane.

It was two halves of his world colliding into one big mess and trying to fix the problems that he’d created. He should have been able to fix things before now. It was his fault the Governor had a hatred for them all, and Shane had only lashed out and stabbed the man in the eye with his arrow because he’d been trying to protect him. Shane had only wanted him safe. Then after all of that Merle had been the one to save his ass again, having to betray any trust he’d built up with the Governor to get him out of there. If he hadn’t gone back to the prison, maybe he could have avoided this whole thing. But no. He’d been greedy, he’d wanted Shane and everything that he had to offer and had put his own happiness over everything else. Now other people were in danger because he had wanted something for himself.

Hitting the steering wheel he tries to control himself, Daryl tries to get some kind of handle over his emotions that were wracking through him. Wiping at his eyes he tries to stop the tears of worry that threaten to fall down his cheeks. He was so fucking stupid. How could he let his own greed overcome common sense? His whole life had been about survival, yet now when it really mattered, he’d gone and put them in more danger than ever. People he cared about were putting their lives in danger all because of him.

The guilt eats away at him as he drives, the tyres kicking up dust as he speeds closer to the meeting point, time ticking down around him to way past the agreed time of midday. He was late, but was he too late?

Daryl pretty much abandons the car a little ways out, not even bothering to hide it as he grabs his bow and heads closer in. He can’t hear anything, no sound of gunfire, no yelling, no nothing as he jogs in, crossbow up and ready to fire if he has to. It feels wrong, his stomach has already tied itself into knots, his emotions are up but he tries to keep a level head as he stalks closer, keeping himself behind cover as the warehouse comes into view.

There are walkers shambling around the place, not many, less than a dozen and they’re distracted by corpses across the ground. It’s enough that Daryl can walk closer without worry, his silent footsteps nowhere near enough of a lure compared to the fresh blood of the recently dead. Edging around them he recognises a few that still have their faces intact, the Governor’s men that he’d seen around. Some have gunshots to the head. Killed before they were eaten at least.

But there aren’t any of the Governor’s men alive around here, at least he can’t see them. The windows of the warehouse are empty and that’s where he’d have lookouts if need be, he knew the Governor was smart enough to think of that. Maybe it had gone alright? Maybe they’d actually managed to do what needed to be done?

Still he couldn’t either of the people he wanted to find and the worry in his stomach only intensifies when he begins to hear other things above the walkers. There are growls of course and the sound of human flesh being ripped from bone, but he can hear something else too. The sound of fists against flesh is something he’s known since he was a child, and he’s careful as he uses the walls of the warehouse for cover, pressed against it as he goes to round it and find the source of the noise.

Next thing he knows there is silence and that is even more terrifying to hear. “Shane? Merle?” He can’t help but call out, crossbow up, fear caught in his throat as he hopes and prays for something, someone to listen to his prayers for once. Just once.

It’s like the world pauses around him for a brief moment and then there’s the sudden burst of a gunshot from behind the warehouse. Daryl freezes, pressing himself back against the wall, fully aware that being armed with a crossbow and a knife wasn’t exactly the best arsenal against someone with a gun. He wants to find out, he feels he needs to go and find out who had fired the weapon and what at, but he’s afraid of the answer he’ll find.

Now wasn’t the time to let himself be overwhelmed with emotions, he had to think this through. He’d gotten no reply to his calls, as far as he knew he was alone. Backing up a little he decides to use the warehouse for cover, heading up the stairs to where he’d seen the windows so he could get a good look over the whole area and see who had the gun. The walkway is smeared with fresh blood, but he knows it’s not from the walker corpse that lies there. It’s from the fresh body sitting against the wall beside it.

The body with a gunshot through the chest and a bayonet attachment to the end of its right arm.

“Merle?” His voice is small, lost beneath the sound of the crossbow falling from his fingers and clattering to the floor. Everything he’s been holding back breaks through whatever walls he’d made to keep them inside, something shatters in his chest and he can barely see as tears blur his vision. Sobs catch in his throat and he crumples to his knees, unable to feel the physical pain as the emotional pain overwhelms him. He can’t breathe.

His brother is dead.

Daryl feels small as he crawls closer on his knees, one shaking hand held out to his brother. Pressing his palm to his brother’s chest, there’s nothing but blood there staining his skin, no heartbeat beneath it all, no rise and fall of lungs breathing. There is the lingering warmth of life and Daryl hiccups as he wonders how close had he been? They’ve never been big on touch, not since Daryl had grown up, but right now he doesn’t feel like much of an adult. He feels small, so much smaller than Merle and a part of him doesn’t believe this.

Merle has always been bigger than him, stronger than him, better than him at everything else. Nothing could ever kill Merle but Merle, he remembers saying that. His chest hurts as he leans his head down, body collapsing in on itself as he tries to bury closer to his brother. There is no movement against him. No scoff at him needing a hug like a girl, no arm casually slung about his shoulders when they’d been drinking. There is nothing anymore. He’s left alone to curl into his brother’s fading warmth, head on Merle’s chest, fingers latching into his blood stained shirt as if he could simply shake him awake if he tried hard enough.

He’s not sure how long the world keeps turning beneath him; it doesn’t feel like it even matters anymore. It’s all his fault. Merle is dead because he was trying to protect him. Stupid big brother complex, stupid idiot not taking him with him again, leaving him behind and now he was dead. Sobs turn into pathetic wails of anguish, he can feel his body shaking all over as he tries to breathe through it all and the reality of the situation sinks in. His brother is dead, shot in the chest, not the head.

Pulling back a little he can’t look at the body’s face, he can’t get that strength just yet and he knows that Merle would be calling him a godamned pussy and a drama queen for it. That makes him hiccup on a sob that might have been a laugh once. But not now. Dropping his hands from Merle’s shirt, he lets them fall to the handgun that lies beside his body, fingers trembling as he picks it up. It feels heavier than he’s used to, almost like it knows what it’s going to be used for. That makes a sob catch in his throat.

He knows he has to do it. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Merle here like this, to let him turn into one of them. He’s not going to let that happen. Taking a deep breathe he presses one palm to Merle’s chest, over where his heart should be beating, whether to double check or to just steady himself, Daryl’s not sure. There is nothing there. His hand is shaking as he brings it up, presses the muzzle to Merle’s forehead and tries not to lose his nerve as he moves a finger to the trigger.

“Daryl?”

His eyes flick to Merle’s lips, but there’s no change, no movement. His brother is dead. The voice didn’t belong to him; it belonged to the other man who meant so much to him. For some reason it makes it harder, and Daryl feels himself break a little more when he turns around to face the only person he had left.

Shane looks wrecked. He’s bruised, been in a fight clearly, covered in dirt and there’s a look in his eye that Daryl understands too well. The look of loss. But that’s not what catches his interest, it’s the blood stain on Shane’s shoulder that does, the one that’s still seeping, still dripping blood and making another sob lodge in Daryl’s chest. He’s hurt, but how hurt? Hurt enough to make this even worse?

He’s caught in his emotions, something he knows never ends well, but right now he’s so fucking lost and he can’t handle this right now. The gun feels heavy as he lifts it, pointing it in Shane’s direction and trying to stop himself from trembling as the other man freezes from walking towards him. “You bit?” He chokes out, words too loud in the silence, making himself flinch as he keeps the gun pointed at the other man. “Are you fucking bit Shane? You gonna fucking die and abandon me too you son of a bitch?” He doesn’t know why he’s so fucking angry with the rest of the world but his chest feels tight and it’s too hard to think right now so he moves on instinct. Trying to protect himself from harm both physically and emotionally.

“Daryl put down the gun.” Shane’s voice is calm as he steps closer, one hand raised towards him, the other clutching at his injured shoulder. He winces as he walks, but Shane knows him, knows him so well that he’s not afraid of the gun being fired.

Daryl knows he’s crying outright now, tears falling down his cheeks as he yells, everything overwhelming him all at once. “No! You fucking tell me now Shane!” He barks out, words catching in his throat as the other man reaches him, one hand over his on the gun and taking it from him easily. Daryl can feel himself breaking apart. “‘Cause if you are… I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t.” Merle’s body is beside him, he can feel it getting colder compared to the warmth of Shane when the other man kneels to the floor beside him. “He’s fucking dead Shane.” He ends up mumbling, fingers still caught in Merle’s shirt, trying to hold him back even though he can’t. “He’s left me again and I can’t do this if you leave me too.”

Fingers reach out to take his own, untangling them from his brother’s shirt, the grip becoming firmer until Daryl finds himself being dragged to face away from his brother. He practically falls into Shane’s arms, letting himself be brought into his lap and smothered by the other man. Everything feels like it hurts deep inside of himself and he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“I’m not bit.” Shane tells him, lips pressed to Daryl’s temple, his body heat real and warm where Daryl is pressed. He can feel him breathing, can feel his heartbeat and he can feel that Shane is still alive and here with him right now. “I’m not bit, I’m okay. It’s not a bite; it’s just a bullet wound. I’m okay, it’s not bad. I’m here.” Shane tells him, still bleeding, but sounding so much more in control than Daryl feels right now.

It’s incredible how easily the other man can ground him, Shane’s arm around his waist keeping him secure, the other still holding the gun as he lets Daryl bury his face into his neck. He doesn’t want to look at the rest of the world right now, he just wants to lose himself in Shane forever. Because things were simpler here, things had been so much easier to deal with when it had been just the two of them together against the world. Shane had been there for him, he’d been there for Shane and he didn’t have to worry about anybody else getting hurt because of him.

Now Merle was dead and all he had left was the man currently holding him. All he had was Shane and the fear of losing him was consuming every inch of his soul. The tears don’t stop, he’s not hysterical but he’s lost in sobs as the other man holds him tightly, keeping him close, keeping him safe and grounded. He needs Shane. He needs him so much and though he knew it before now he hadn’t felt it before. It’s like a burning need inside of him, something almost tangible and he can feel it, like Shane’s his last tether to this world. He needs him, more now than ever.

“Daryl, I need to…we need to take care of Merle.” Shane tells him, voice low and factual, not asking him to do anything more than accept the reality of the situation. He can’t do it and Shane isn’t asking him to, he’s just telling him how it is and he can understand that. Daryl keeps his face buried in Shane’s neck, practically in his lap now, wrapped around him tightly and he feels like he can never let go again as he gives a nod to the other man. He doesn’t look up, he can’t watch, but he can feel when his partner raises the gun, the arm around him tightening a little more, giving him a warning before he pulls the trigger.

It makes him flinch but Shane is there.

It had been just the two of them for so long before all of this chaos had started. Days spent just getting to know each other, nights wrapped in each other’s arms and pretending it was for warmth when it had been for so much more. Daryl had gone from feeling like the outcast to suddenly feeling wanted and Shane had given that to him. There was nobody else in the world that he trusted more than this man holding him, so when Shane speaks to him he understands exactly what he’s trying to say.

“I got you.” Shane tells him, words quiet in his ear, something shared just between the two of them. “I’ve got you Daryl. I’m not going anywhere, I’ve got you. I’m okay, you’re okay. It’s going to be alright. I’m not going to leave you.” There’s a moment of pause, Shane dropping the gun and moving to cradle the back of Daryl’s head gently. “I made a promise to look after you, and I’m not going to break it.”

Shane’s words help Daryl feel a little less broken inside. He knows the other man is being honest, he can feel it in his bones, feel it in the way Shane holds him close and doesn’t let go for a second. They’re in this together, just like they had been before. Pulling back from the other man’s neck he wipes at his eyes, fully aware that he must look like a complete mess, but knowing that Shane doesn’t give a shit.

He’s lost his brother, the one person he thought he could always rely on to be there for him no matter what. But Merle had gone and sacrificed himself for him, to protect him and Daryl wasn’t going to make his death meaningless. It seemed Shane wasn’t either. The other man was making a promise to him, one that means something to him and clearly had meant something to his brother too. Shane was going to someone he can rely on, someone he can trust to look out for him and have his back.

Sniffing back more tears he leans forward to press his forehead against Shane’s, grabbing at his shirt, keeping him close as he lets his eyes fall shut. He trusts this man holding him, he trusts him with his life. Shane is more than something to him, this thing between them was more than just something and he knows that now.

“I’ve got you.” Shane tells him once more, and Daryl can only nod in reply, pressing their foreheads together. He knows what that means, he can read between the lines and he knows that Shane understands that he needs this right now. “I’ve got you.”

Daryl loves him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For inkinmytea, Elle and especially for Saya. You guys all mean a lot to me.


	31. Chapter 31

It’s been almost a year since the initial reports of an illness sweeping the country. Ten months since they’d been separated from the rest of the group. Two months since they’d somehow found their way back to them all and settled into the prison as a home. Yet despite how long it’s been, the sun still rises the same as it always has. Everyone is an early riser these days, basing their natural rhythms on the daylight and moving with it. It means that as the light streams through the cellblock and begins lighting up their world, Shane naturally wakes with it, sighing softly as he stretches in their bed and lets his arm curl about Daryl’s waist to tug him in tighter to himself.

It feels natural to them both now to wake up like this. Shane on the edge of their too small bunk, Daryl pressed between his body and the wall, curled into each other as if there was a need to share warmth. Maybe it’s not necessary for that, but Shane feels they just need the reassurance of each other still being there even as they’re asleep. Heck, maybe they’re both just too used to each other’s presence to sleep peacefully without each other nowadays. Either way, it’s not a bad way to wake up after the end of the world.

“Mornin’.”

Just hearing Daryl’s half asleep voice makes him smile and lean in to press a lazy kiss to the other man’s shoulder. Tightening his grip a little, Shane presses tighter into Daryl’s back, letting their bodies lie flush together as they both slowly wake up. It’s so domestic, so quiet and not stressful, possibly the least stressful moment of their day, so it’s nice to just get to enjoy it together. Huffing out a noise of agreement, Shane keeps his eyes closed, just burying himself into Daryl’s scent and enjoying himself for a moment.

Daryl gives a small noise of a laugh, pressing himself further into the pillow as Shane continues kissing over his partner’s shoulders and neck. This is the best part of the whole day. Locked away in their cell together, with no one’s eyes on them making Daryl feel self conscious, no chores that need doing, nobody else but each other. Shane lives for these moments and he intends to enjoy every second of it.

Nuzzling closer, Shane takes his time, nudging the fabric of Daryl’s vest aside to allow him the chance to kiss over his bare skin. He loves nipping at the back of his neck, running his tongue over sensitive barely awake skin and feeling the shivers run down Daryl’s spine. It makes him chuckle a little, leaving open mouthed kisses over Daryl’s flesh, feeling each reaction as he moves to kiss over the scars that peek out from his partner’s clothing. It’s taken time for Daryl to allow him this level of intimacy, and Shane appreciates that, and only ever does it to let Daryl know how much he adores every inch of him. No matter how broken and ugly Daryl thinks he is.

He can feel the way Daryl tenses a little when his tongue trails over a sensitive part, one particular inch of scarring that sometimes aches after a long day’s hard work. It doesn’t make him stop, it just makes Shane press another kiss there, thumb caught on Daryl’s hip and rubbing in small, soothing circles to let him know that he understands without having to say a word. A few seconds pass, but then Daryl is relaxing against the bunk, fingers that were clenched into the sheets letting go and lying flat as Daryl lets out a small sigh when Shane continues making his way across his shoulder blades.

His partner has been too tense for too long. Ever since they’d buried Merle last month and taken in the people from Woodbury, Daryl’s been on edge. Shane can understand of course. The man just lost his brother, had to find his dead body and know that it was because the other man had been trying to protect him. It didn’t matter how many times Shane told him otherwise, he knew Daryl still blamed himself for Merle’s death. It has taken time. Shane likes to think it helped that Merle’s body was buried here in the prison yard, among others they had lost, other family members that were loved and respected. Still the past month has been difficult for Daryl and though Shane’s tried to help as much as he could, it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Having the Woodbury people here made things even more awkward for Daryl. Shane didn’t mind, sure he’d been called a traitor and the like to them all, some still sneered his way every so often, but he had his family and that was all that mattered to him. He has Rick, Carl and baby Judith as well as the rest of the group and he can cope with a few dark glares in his direction if he has to. Daryl though, he’s finding it hard to adapt to having so many people around him again.

Before, on the road it had been just the two of them. Even then there had been moments that Shane knew the other man needed space and time to himself. Daryl was a solitary person, but there was a big difference between being alone and being lonely. Sometimes Daryl just needed someone he trusted to be there, to be near, but not to be involved in everything he was doing. Daryl wasn’t a social creature like Shane was and in their months together they’d learnt about each other.

There had been days of Shane talking and Daryl just listening, more than happy to learn about the other man and not add a single word. Sometimes they’d been silent, but there had been an understanding between them as they’d walked together. It had been companionable. Even now they could sit in their cell together, Shane cleaning his gun, Daryl cleaning his bow and not say a word to each other, but still be comfortable, thighs pressing together as they sit close on the bed, not needing to spoil it with small talk. Sometimes they enjoyed just existing together, just being around each other and Shane thinks that Daryl needs those moments of quiet because sometimes, though he’d never say it, being social could be overwhelming for the other man.

So with the addition of more people around, Daryl has become more reclusive, spending more time hunting, less time in the more crowded areas and Shane could understand that. He’d tried to make Daryl feel more comfortable, tried to help him socialise and explain everything that had happened with the Governor, and though all of the Woodbury folk seemed to understand, they still made Daryl feel uncomfortable. But he hates that Daryl feels uncomfortable in his own home and today he planned to change that.

Giving a final kiss to the back of Daryl’s neck, Shane gives a roll of his hips, giving a quiet hum of enjoyment as his morning wood grinds against Daryl’s rear. They haven’t got the time or the privacy to do anything right now, but sometimes he just enjoyed the closeness and remembering how they’d started every day when on the road together. Daryl presses back against him, Shane’s hands move to hold around his hips again and Daryl’s slide down to cover his, holding him back as they wake up together.

Then their alarm goes off. Baby Judith begins wailing, waking up herself and the rest of the cellblock with her. It happens every morning, and Shane muffles his small laugh into Daryl’s shoulder as his partner groans at the sudden loud noise interrupting their lazy morning wake up.

He can hear Rick getting up to feed her; there are the sounds of Carl grumbling, the click of Hershel’s cane and Beth’s bright and sunny voice as they all begin waking up and making breakfast for everyone. He and Daryl are nowhere near that perky in the morning and neither of them make a move to get out of bed, Daryl simply rolls over to face him with a yawn.

Shane can’t help but smile at the picture. Daryl’s hair is a mess, fluffed up from static and sleep, his vest is halfway up his stomach beneath the sheets and Shane knows he looks just about as handsome this morning himself after being curled into each other all night long. “Mornin’ baby.” He murmurs, leaning in to press a light kiss to Daryl’s nose.

His partner huffs, but doesn’t pull back or complain about the nickname. It’s one that Shane’s taken to calling him lately, and somehow it’s stuck. At first Daryl had said he’d hated it, but then there was a small smile on his face when he’d said it, and Shane knew it had been the reason for the light flush on the back of his neck. So he’s continued using it, and nowadays, Daryl doesn’t even mention not enjoying the sweet nickname, he just sighs with a smile every time Shane calls him it.

“What you got planned for the day?” Shane asks him, voice low but he knows Daryl can hear him despite the sounds of everyone else in the cellblock getting up and moving around.

“Was thinkin’ of goin’ huntin’.” Daryl shrugs, face still part buried in Shane’s chest. “More people means we need more food.”

It’s true, since the arrival of the people from Woodbury they have been in need of more supplies, but they’re not on their own. Everybody has been lending a hand, bringing in the food stores from Woodbury, tinned food, dried food and even the little things like herbs and spices to make things taste better. They’re not exactly starving, so Shane is fully aware that the main reason for Daryl wanting to go hunting is because he wants to be by himself. He’s not a social person, but Shane can’t help but worry a little, he always worries when Daryl isn’t in his sight.

“You ain’t goin’ to be out there long though right?” He asks, fingers running down Daryl’s side, rubbing over his hip lightly and enjoying the warmth of sleep still shared between them. “Don’t like you goin’ out there by yourself.”

Daryl snorts out a laugh, rolling his eyes and shaking his head a little where he’s still resting against Shane’s chest. But Shane knows him, knows he appreciates having someone care about him and his safety, even if Daryl isn’t used to it. “I’ll be fine. It’s just checking the traps mainly. Besides, you’re one to talk, you’re the one going on this stupid run today.” Daryl points out, fingers fidgeting with Shane’s sleep shirt as he looks up to meet his eyes.

Shane knows that Daryl worries for his safety as much as he does Daryl’s. They make quite a pair, insisting on keeping the other safe, always checking for injuries when the other returned from a run, and pretending they didn’t spend every other second worrying. He’s not surprised that it’s been bothering Daryl that he’s been planning on going on a run without him, usually they always went together, as a team, working together to keep each other safe.

“I’ll be fine, Maggie and Glenn are coming with me, I’m not gonna be alone.” He points out, keeping his arms around Daryl and squeezing him lightly. “Won’t even be gone the whole day, we’re gonna set out early and be back before evening. You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” He tries to reassure Daryl, but he knows it’s not working. Whatever bubble of unease has caught Daryl isn’t letting go, and Shane can’t help but smile fondly as he leans in to kiss him once more. “Be back before you know it.”

He kisses Daryl softly, just enjoying a few moments of peace, the mockery of a simple life for them both when they’ve just woken up. For a moment they can pretend that it’s just the two of them, sharing a bed, sharing each other and there is nothing that can ruin the peace. Shane thinks this just might be his favourite part of the day. Fingers stay clutched onto his shirt, Daryl not letting him move away an inch as they kiss, sharing soft moans and tasting each other. Their bodies press together, warm, aligned perfectly and Shane can’t help but shift enough to press their lower halves together, the pair of them grinding through their clothing into the heat of each other.

It’s the perfect easy wake up, and Shane smiles into the lazy kisses as they slowly begin to evolve, Daryl making tiny noises of want as they grind their cocks together. They don’t get much time by themselves anymore; it’s not the same as when it was just the two of them, so they’ll take the small moments when they can get them. Shane groans a little as Daryl bucks into him, running his tongue over the other man’s lower lip to coax him into allowing the kisses to get deeper.

Of course Daryl gives in to him with the tiniest of whimpers, opening his mouth and allowing Shane’s to delve inside. Daryl tastes of sleep and home, stale cigarettes and of sweetness that Shane can never get enough of. Moving against him again Shane tugs the blankets higher over them, hiding them away from the rest of the world until it’s only the two of them again. It gives them a sense of privacy, and maybe they have to keep the noise down to not draw in any attention, but sometimes they just need this.

Grinding their cock’s together through clothing isn’t enough, and before Daryl can beg for it Shane is pulling back, fingers moving over their clothing to tug at waistbands and shove their pants down out of the way. Daryl moans a little when Shane pushes their underwear down their thighs, letting them press together enough to rub the heated flesh of their cocks together. It’s stupid how good it feels, how intimate when he can wrap his arms around Daryl and press a hand to his lower back, coaxing him into continue thrusting against him.

His partner gives a small moan, and Shane can’t help but pull back to meet Daryl’s eyes with a grin. “Yeah you like that baby?” He mumbles, ducking to nibble over Daryl’s neck, bucking his hips to grind their dicks together again. Daryl nods against him, tiny noises of pleasure falling from his lips as Shane reaches down to wrap a hand around both of their lengths.

Immediately Daryl is gasping, reaching up to grab at Shane’s hair and yanking him into a hard kiss, hips never stopping their constant motion. It feels too damned good, it’s been too long and Shane groans into the kiss. Rubbing over their cocks he can feel himself leak already, pre cum slicking up his palm as he strokes up and down their lengths, both he and Daryl fucking his fist together. It’s easy, both of them thrusting their hips together, breathing in each other’s warm breaths between shared kisses and stuttered moans.

Their cocks both leak into his hand, slicking him up enough that each thrust into his hand makes an obscene noise beneath the sheets. It’s filthy, they’re both rutting like animals against each other, grinding against each other’s cocks and fucking Shane’s fist together. He’s groaning, Daryl is panting and though it’s something so small it’s something they’re sharing together and it’s fucking wonderful. Sometimes the best wake up was an easy orgasm.

Squeezing around their dicks, Shane presses them flush together again, bodies grinding and pressing into each other as they kiss again. He moans, tries to keep it quiet as Daryl shudders in his grip, hips twitching faster against his own as they work together. Moving his free hand down Daryl’s back, Shane continues kissing him as he slides it lower, squeezing and grasping at Daryl’s ass cheek and pulling him into another slow grind.

“Shane.” Daryl gives a breathy sigh of his name, fingers still caught in Shane’s shirt and refusing to let him move back from rocking against him. They move together for a moment, Shane runs his thumb over the head of Daryl’s cock and can feel the slickness of their pre cum as he rubs it over them. “Shane what if someone-“ His partner cuts himself off with a low groan, Daryl’s hips buck against him again and again and Shane kisses his harder to stop him from worrying.

Together they grind in small movements, their cocks wet and slippery in his fingers, rubbing up against each other, moving closer to oblivion as they pant into each kiss. Shane thrusts harder, rubbing their dicks together, the friction helping as much as the feeling of pressing into his grip. Daryl is so tightly pressed against him, panting and moaning, echoing the same noises Shane is making as they rut together. It’s not difficult to stretch his fingers out, to manage to rub the flat of a pad against Daryl’s opening and feel his partner gasp and whimper into his mouth at the feeling. Shane knows how much Daryl likes it, how even if he’ll never say it aloud, he likes the feeling of being fucked, of being full, so he knows that even if he can only press the tip of his finger inside, Daryl’s grunt and sudden increase in speed of his thrusting is because he loves it.

“Fuck Daryl, you know how fucking hot you are right now?” Shane whispers to him, lips still pressed together with Daryl’s, barely a half inch of space between them, breathing in each other’s hot breath and groaning together. Daryl rocks into his grip, dick slick as his own, fingers still curled into Shane’s shirt and giving him some kind of tether as he rocks back onto Shane’s finger. “Fuck baby you’re gonna make me come.” He grunts, rubbing over both of their lengths, feeling his cock twitch and jerk as his balls tighten.

Grinding further into his grip he can feel Daryl continue thrusting against him as his cock jerks, and Shane can only fasten his mouth over Daryl’s to stifle his loud moan as he finally comes hard. His cock twitches, spurting over them both, adding more slickness to his grip, making it easier for Daryl to buck and thrust against his sensitive cock until he’s coming too, the head of his cock twitching and sending more come over the pair of them. They groan together, a kiss between them muffling the sounds from the world outside of their cell and keeping it between the two of them.

Shane can feel Daryl tremble against him, a small sigh leaving his partner’s lips as they both relax into the too small bunk and just enjoy the aftermath of a lazy morning orgasm. Daryl is warm against his side, real and firm in his arms, and for a moment it’s just enough to be able to have this, if only for a moment. So he curls into him a little more, wraps his arms around Daryl’s waist and ignores the sticky mess between them as he just enjoys the feeling of comfort and safety that being with Daryl provides.

“Still not happy about you goin’ on this run.” Daryl mumbles and Shane can’t help but laugh a little as Daryl carries on the conversation as if there had been no interruption in the middle.

“You’re never happy about me goin’ on a run without you.” He points out.

Daryl huffs a little, tilting his head back to look up at him with a frown between his eyes, one that Shane reaches out to poke at with his finger, making Daryl huff again in annoyance. “Would be alright if I knew where you were goin’.” He grumbles and Shane rolls over enough so they’re both on their sides facing each other.

“Told you before, it’s a secret.” Shane points out and can only smile when Daryl opens his mouth to retort, making him continue before Daryl can even start. “And I’m not telling you so don’t bother asking.”

He gets a shove to the side for that, and then Daryl is climbing over him and hopping out of their bunk, trying to smooth over ruffled clothing and grabbing an old rag to wipe at the smear of come clinging to his sleep shirt. Shane watches him with a smirk, sitting up and catching the rag thrown at him so he can clean himself up. “Aw you mad at me baby?” He asks, voice teasing as he stands up to begin getting ready for the day. “Told you it’ll be fine, got Glenn and Maggie with me.”

“So how come they’re allowed to know where you’re goin’ and I ain’t?” Daryl asks, tossing his dirty vest aside and grabbing up a new shirt for the day. For a moment he’s bare chested, but more importantly bare backed in the same room as Shane and heck, it’s just a testament to how far they’ve come that neither of them even mention it anymore. They’re so comfortable with each other that Daryl doesn’t even try to hide a single scar anymore. It makes Shane smile a little. “You not trust me or somethin’?”

That makes Shane move over to him, wrapping his arms around Daryl’s middle and bringing him close enough to rest their foreheads together. Daryl knows the answer to that, they both do, and hell Daryl even looks a little ashamed of having even asked such a question. Shane simply kisses him lightly, reaching up to cup at Daryl’s cheek and stroke over his stubble with his thumb before moving to get ready for the day.

“It’s kinda of more than a secret.” Shane tries to explain without giving the game away. “More like a surprise really, but I dunno how well it’s gonna work out. So if you stay here then you won’t be so disappointed if I come back empty handed.”

“Ain’t gonna be disappointed if you come back in one piece.” Daryl grumbles, as if annoyed that Shane had gotten him to admit to caring about him. “Couldn’t give a shit about you being empty handed.”

Shane gives him a smirk at that, tugging on his shirt and slipping on his boots, readying himself for the day of travelling ahead of him. His knife gets put into its sheath on his belt and he presses a kiss to Daryl’s shoulder before grabbing up his shotgun. It’s almost sad how this has become akin to his usual getting ready for work ritual, gathering weapons and preparing to have to put down as many walkers as he has to in order to come home.

Moving over to Daryl he runs his hands over his hips, reaching up to help smooth his shirt into place, pressing against his body and just enjoying a quiet moment of them being together. “I’ll be fine. You’re worrying over nothing, I swear it ain’t a difficult run, it’s just far. Not goin’ into Atlanta or anythin’.” Because if there is one place they try to avoid it’s the cities where the larger herds tend to linger, seemingly a part of the walkers’ decaying brains knowing that they’re meant to be in the urban areas.

There is a moment between them, Daryl leaning back into Shane’s embrace, before the other man dips his head, eyes studying the floor in a way Shane knows means Daryl’s unsure of himself. So he makes sure to wait patiently, and when Daryl does speak he doesn’t move away an inch.

“Shane, you ain’t goin’ after him are ya?” Daryl asks, and his voice is quiet enough that Shane knows this has been on his mind for a good long while.

He doesn’t reply at first. Instead Shane just lets his fingers run over Daryl’s forearm, over the fading scar created with a knife and anger, made because of one man’s hatred. Lifting Daryl’s arm by the wrist he leans over his shoulder enough to kiss over the scar, pressing himself closer to Daryl in the process. He can’t say the thought hasn’t occurred to him. They all know the Governor is out there somewhere, and at first, after everything that had happened he had wanted to go after him and make sure he never had the chance to hurt Daryl again. But that would have meant leaving Daryl at the prison and after the loss of Merle; he had been the only one that could get through to his partner.

Daryl had pushed everybody away after that, clinging to Shane, hiding away from everyone else, barely eating, barely sleeping and latching on to their alcohol supplies for a while. Shane had been there, tried to help, sat beside him and let him get drunk to try and ease the pain. It had ended up with Daryl falling apart, and Shane was the only one he’d allowed to help him put himself back together.

So he hadn’t gone, hadn’t chased after the threat, hadn’t tried to hunt down the Governor no matter how much he wanted to stab the fucker in his other eye and watch him stumble into a herd of walkers to be ripped apart. He had stayed; for Daryl. Because Daryl had needed him and that was that. But it didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it, and Daryl knows that. He doesn’t like to leave threats where he can’t see them, and so long as the Governor lives, he’s still a threat.

“No.” He answers, squeezing Daryl lightly in his hold and making sure the other man knows he means it. “I know you don’t want me to, so I won’t.” Because he can almost feel Daryl’s fear. The Governor had killed Daryl’s brother, the one person he had believed to be invincible, the childish notion still relevant after so many years. If the man could do that, he knew Daryl feared for Shane’s life if they ever crossed paths again. He wouldn’t do that to Daryl, wouldn’t make him worry over losing him again. “I promise I’m not going after him.”

He can feel Daryl’s sigh of relief leave him, and Shane rubs over the scar on his arm once more before pulling back so they can continue getting ready. Besides, Andrea and Michonne were off on their woman only mission to hunt him down, he wouldn’t want to step on their toes and ruin their fun. The women seemed to enjoy going off together, exploring the world, taking down walkers and letting them know if they found anywhere worth raiding on their travels. They made a good team and Shane didn’t think they’d need him getting in the way of it all.

“It’s just a run, I’ll be back soon enough.” He reminds Daryl, moving away to grab his rucksack and swing it onto his back, ready to get going since there was a long journey to get to where he wants to go. “Go hunt, and try to stop worrying about me.” Leaning in he presses one last kiss to Daryl’s lips, enjoying the way the other man automatically tilts his head to allow Shane to take control. He smirks a little before pulling away, offering Daryl a smile before he heads down to find Maggie and Glenn.

The cellblock is alive with voices, people milling about and already awake with the sun. Children run around the place, sharing food and laughter, making the prison fell alive and not so cold. Carol immediately beckons him over, handing him a granola bar and giving him the look when he goes to tuck it inside a pocket. Immediately he stops, beginning to unwrap it to take a bite, sighing a little when she gives him a look he’s only ever seen on his mother’s face before when he was a lot younger and still looking for her approval.

“You sure you won’t come?” He asks mid chew, noting that Carol seems to have deemed herself den mother and was rationing out the food for everyone else for breakfast. Maybe it was something she enjoyed doing, or maybe it were her way of having some control over their growing community. Either way, Shane knows not to underestimate her just because she’s playing momma to them all. Carol was one of the strongest women he knows, it why he asks even if he knows it might be difficult for her. “It might help or somethin’.”

She shakes her head with a smile, focussing on her work but Shane can see the emotion held back, it’s all in her eyes, no matter how good the mask, Carol’s eyes show her true feelings. “No, I don’t need to.” Pausing in her work she seems to know he’s worried about her, so she offers him a smile and leans to bump shoulders with him in a friendly manner. “I’ve made my peace with what happened a long time ago Shane, and that woman I was before? I don’t want to be her again.”

Shane wants to tell her so many things. Wants to let her know that he thinks she is the strongest damn woman he’s ever met, and not just now. She’d been strong at the quarry, dealing with Ed in a way he’d never have been able to, keeping all her anger inside and only letting it out when it was safe to do so. Carol was dangerous, but she was a controlled kind of dangerous, the kind that could be used when it was needed and not spiral out of control like he tended to sometimes. Instead he nods, bumps shoulders with her again and takes another bite of the granola bar. “You’ll look out for him while I’m gone?”

Carol smiles, going back to her task before responding. “Always do.” Shane trusts her.

Heading outside he shares a few nods with the Woodbury people, some faces he recognises, others he thinks he should know better. They had lost so many, the Governor going crazy after he’d tried to shoot Shane and run off. The bullet wound on his shoulder still twinged sometimes if he moved wrong, even Carl offering him the sheriff’s hat for being shot hadn’t made him feel much better about it. Because the pain and the shock had been so severe, and the worry for Daryl had taken over him until he hadn’t cared about the Governor anymore. The man had returned to Woodbury, and from what the people had told them, he’d killed some of his own before running off.

He wishes he could have done more, but at that moment he’d been solely focussed on one thing and Daryl was always his priority.

Down by the fences Rick and Carl are already digging in their vegetable patch, early morning mist just beginning to fade as Hershel and Beth head over with the baby. It’s nice; it feels almost normal if you ignore the walkers growling at the fences. But it’s home, it’s safe and Shane knows that as far as he can see, this is their future. Maybe it’s not perfect but it’s enough.

Thing is, everybody else fits here. They’re making themselves find their place, Carol as the den mother, Rick as the farmer, Hershel as the wise overseer and even the kids were making friends with the new arrivals. They were becoming a group, a community, everyone finding their own place where they fit in. Even he was able to give advice to people, help teaching them about firearms and gun safety, giving them a chance against the walkers they’d been sheltered from for so long.

There is only one person that wasn’t quite fitting in, wasn’t quite comfortable, wasn’t quite at home. He can understand that Daryl isn’t a social person, he gets that, but he doesn’t want Daryl to feel so isolated here. If this is going to be their home, then he wants it to feel like it for all of them, and that includes Daryl.

Heading over to the truck he’s pleased to see Glenn and Maggie already checking it over, making sure they have enough fuel and ammo for the run. Each of them have backpacks, but for everything he’s intending to bring back they’ve got the flatbed truck for the space. If he’s lucky it’s going to be a good haul, one that will help them all out a lot, and even if it’s going to be a long drive, he hopes it’s going to be worth it in the end.

“Ready to get going?” He asks them, getting two nods in reply as Glenn secures his handgun in place in its holster. They all have knives, plenty of ammo and weapons, but Shane doesn’t intend for this to become a fight. If he’s lucky it’ll be quiet since it’s off the main roads.

“Yeah, everything is ready.” Glenn smiles to him, already hopping into the drivers seat with Maggie in the middle of the bench seat beside him. “Still managed to keep it a secret from Daryl?” He asks with a hint of teasing and Maggie giggles beside him, clearly the both of them enjoying the knowledge of the secret when the other man didn’t have a clue.

“Just about.” Shane admits, getting in and settling himself against the side of the door, ready to watch the world pass them by as they drive. “Can tell it’s pissing him off not knowing though.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Maggie tells him, sharing a smile with him and he can see that she’s trying to hold back her own motions with it. Glenn starts the truck, but as soon as they’re heading towards the gates he’s settling a hand on Maggie’s thigh, letting her link their fingers together as he offers her his strength. “It’ll mean a lot to him.”

Shane has to admit he knows how much it will mean to Daryl, but that’s only if he’s lucky. The fact is, this trip was going to mean so much more for Maggie. “You sure you’re gonna be okay with this? It’s gonna be hard.” He points out, and he knows that if she even mentioned not wanting to go, he wouldn’t hold it against her.

Maggie nods, her hand clutching at Glenn’s as they drive through the gates and head out onto the open road. There is a lot of emotions playing across her face right now, but she controls them, and Shane has to respect how much she’s grown over their months apart. “I know, but I gotta do it.” She tells him. “It would be too much for my dad to handle and I don’t want Beth to have to see it now. I want them to remember it how it was, back then, before everything happened.” She explains and Shane can understand that.

He doesn’t understand how Rick and Carl could go back to King’s County so easily, just walk back into their home town and see it how it was. When he’d left all those months ago, the place had been gutted, everywhere barren and looking like a ghost town. It had hurt something deep inside of himself to see it like that. So he can understand Maggie’s trepidation, but he also has a lot of respect for her for toughing it out and doing this.

The drive is long. It takes them a good few hours since they stick to the back roads, but soon enough Maggie is directing them, recognising the area and using her knowledge to bring them through the broken down gate and down the pebbled drive until they’re at their destination. Glenn drives closer, going careful over the dips and bumps, eyes open and scanning the landscape for any threats as they make their approach. There are a couple of lone walkers in the surrounding fields, but nothing worth getting worried over. Finally they park up outside and when Glenn turns off the car, Shane can feel how tense Maggie is beside him.

The Greene family farm has never looked so cold.

Shane has to admit, he’s surprised at the condition it’s in. As far as he can tell it’s not been ransacked, which was his main fear. The front door remains closed on the porch, a few windows are open from where they’d been left, but it just looks unused. It’s not broken, it’s not open and from what he can see it doesn’t look ransacked at all. Letting out a deep breath he doesn’t want to move without Maggie’s permission. This was her home, and he would not disrespect that by barging in without her say so.

“We don’t have to.” Glenn reminds her, hand still in hers and squeezing at her fingers. Shane can’t help but smile at their make do wedding rings, something so simple and yet it clearly meant so much to them both. Looking back up at the house he wonders if it’s still there. “Maggie we don’t. If it’s too much-“

“No.” She cuts him off, still clinging to her husband’s hand, but it seems the initial shock has worn off and again Shane can see that strength shining through. “I want to do this. Not for me, but for everybody else. If it hasn’t been touched, then there is food in the pantry, medical supplies, farming tools in the stables. We need this. This isn’t just about me.” Maggie points out and Shane has to agree that if this were anybody else’s house they would be jumping for joy at finding it untouched. As it is he simply waits, and gives Maggie time to prepare herself for it.

He knows it’s going to be tough. There was no question of that, but it would be good for them and not only for things they need for supplies. “I remember Rick saying he knew Lori and Carl were alive because of a photo album being taken.” He points out, running his fingers through his hair as they looks up at the quiet house before them. “Was thinking of trying to find it for them. For…” Licking over his lips it still hurts to think about, but he knows it’s another reason he came here today. “For Judith. She deserves to get to see a picture of her mom.”

Maggie’s free hand comes up to rest on his arm and he appreciates the gesture. “Point is,” he continues, “we can get supplies sure, but I’m sure there are some things that your dad or Beth miss too.”

“Her diary.” Maggie laughs a little, starting to look a little less nauseated at the idea of heading inside the house she’d once called home. “Beth always wrote in her diary every single day, I know she’d like that.”

“Then we go inside and try to find those first. This isn’t about supplies, it’s more than that.” Glenn continues, lifting Maggie’s hand to place a kiss to the back of it. They all know it’s more than a simple supply run, and Shane intends for this place to be treated with respect, no matter how empty it may seem.

Because though he’d been able to justify the trip to himself by thinking about the supplies available, especially since they were starting their own farm now, there was one big reason he’d wanted to come here. As they make their way out of the car, he lets Maggie go first, Glenn beside her for support as they step up onto the porch, knives ready as she reaches out to open the door. It swings open easily enough, unused for so long that it creaks loudly, but that was a good thing. The three of them step through the door and have to pause as their way is blocked by something filling the entire hallway. He can’t help but smile as he reaches out to run his fingers through the layer of dust that has built up over it.

“It’s still here.”


	32. Chapter 32

Hunting has always been one of his favourite past times. Ever since Daryl had first learned how to track, how to stalk prey and notice every single little sign animals left behind so he could follow them and take them out, he’s loved it. There is something calming about it all, soothing with it’s slow pace and dependence on skill and not brute strength. He’s been doing it for so much of his life now that it feels natural; it feels easy to slip into his hunter’s headspace, to forget about everything else in the world and focus on the woodland he’s in. His feet move quietly, placed down with precision, silent, deadly, it’s easy for him to stay unnoticed, unseen, unheard and invisible to everything else. It’s how he likes to be sometimes.

More people at the prison meant more food was needed and he knows they want to try and keep the canned stuff for as long as possible. Use by dates mean nothing nowadays, and if it’s sealed, it’s safe to keep for desperate times. So he’s trying to bring in more meat, trying to keep them fed, keep their protein levels up and give them all the strength to get through the upcoming winter. They’re gonna need it, their farm is going strong and everything but the weather has been worse since the walkers, and last winter brought the most snowfall Daryl’s ever seen in Georgia down upon them. They need to be prepared for the worst to happen with their crops, so he’s trying to keep the meat coming, and with the power they’ve got they might even be able to get a chiller or something set up to make it go even further.

The woodland surrounding the prison is well known to him now, and he’s been diligent with setting traps and snares around the area, hidden enough not to be found by walkers and risk them losing their catch. He checks them daily, once in the morning and once just before dusk, and already they’re showing promise. The catch today hangs at his belt, a couple of rabbits and a hare, more than enough for him to take back to the prison after resetting the snares. He slips through one of their boltholes, no point in using the main gates when it’s just him getting in and out. The walkers still gnash their teeth at him from behind the fences as he walks round the perimeter, and it’s sad how it’s become so easy to ignore them nowadays. Walkers were normal now, death staring them dead in the face and none of them even flinch anymore.

The prison is growing around them. The people from Woodbury have joined them, it was awkward at first, but it’s beginning to settle down into a normal community. They have new people join sometimes, stragglers from old groups that have met their end; some people were alone and desperate for human contact of some kind. Either way they test them, try to guess the kind of people they are before they’re allowed to join them. It’s strange to live here now, surrounded by people, when just last winter it was only he and Shane. Almost a year ago now, and fuck has it really been that long?

It feels strange to think about it all. How much things have changed for him. The world has changed and honestly he’d never thought it would change him too. But here he is, definitely a different person from who he once was. He thinks he’s changed for the better now, and maybe there’s the tiniest bit of pride in his chest when he thinks of how far he’s come. Back then he was a loner, the only person he even gave a shit about was Merle, and he’d thought that was the only way things could ever be. But now, here he was, returning home to a prison populated with a whole crowd of people, some of them were even starting to become family to him, and he liked that. Maybe he’s never been the best with people, but he’s gotten better for sure. And he knows there’s only one person he has to thank for that, but that damned asshole was still notably absent.

“They not back yet?” He asks Carol when she approaches him, hands held out ready for his catch. She’s become their unofficial den mother, keeping the place running with the boring menial chores as well as protecting their weapons and ensuring that everyone works together. Daryl knows he’s not the best with people, but Carol and he have always gotten along, and even now they’ve fallen back into that easy friendship they’d had before they had been separated.

“Not yet.” She’s got that smile on her face, the one that’s just shy of becoming a full on grin to him. “Stop worrying, they can handle themselves.” Their friendship means a lot to him. Before Shane he’d never really felt like anybody wanted to know him, but Carol, she’s different. Maybe it’s because they both know they have similar backgrounds they’ve fought through to get here. Whatever the reason, he appreciates having her here now.

“I ain’t worrying.” He shrugs; even if he can’t stop keep watching through the fences. His eyes constantly scanning the road, checking for vehicles and anyone approaching. There’s nothing. “Just checking is all. Not used to him keeping secrets from me, don’t want it to become a habit.” He tells her and really it’s something that’s been niggling at him for a while now.

They’ve never really had secrets before. Between he and Shane, there just hadn’t been room for them. They’d depended on each other, learnt about each other, survived together and there just wasn’t room to keep stuff hidden. So many nights had been spent just talking, wrapped around each other after sex, curled in blankets and just talking. Sometimes it was another round of never have I ever, sometimes Shane just seemed to like talking for the hell of it, and even a few times Daryl had started a conversation. But they knew each other, they shared everything and even if he’s sure he’ll feel stupid when it’s all over, not knowing where Shane was right now was driving him crazy.

He’s never really been a talker. Daryl knows he’s not the kind of person to open up to anybody. But with Shane things were different. There had been moments where he’d not been able to hide things, where the situation had meant some secrets of his own slipped out, and when they came into view Shane hadn’t run away. He’d stayed with him, not laughing, not mocking, and not judging. Shane just accepted it as a part of him and let it be. He’d never had that before. It’s why it hurts so much to be left here, waiting and wondering.

Sure he hadn’t shared everything with Shane. The other man knew about his scars now, even if it had taken him a long time to be comfortable with allowing him to see them. Shane knew and he hadn’t turned him away. Sure maybe he didn’t know the reason for them, but the thing is he has a feeling Shane knows anyway. He’s not an idiot; he’s probably worked it out. Even if Daryl has never told him outright, he’d still shared it with him, and here Shane was holding this information from him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he just knew. Because then if there was a problem, if they didn’t come back before the night drew in, if they needed help, he’d be able to go and find him. He’d saved Shane’s ass so many times out there, having him away from his side was damned near killing him.

It hurts not to know, and he only hopes that Shane wasn’t going to be making a habit of running off without him there for backup.

He’s still watching the road, peering beyond the constant ring of walkers around the fences to see if there is any change. Nothing. Not the sound of an engine or anything to signify someone heading their way. It makes the ache in his chest feel heavier.

Carol is there though, nudging at his shoulder, bumping at his side to catch his attention and sending that little smile his way again. “Not a secret, a surprise.” She reminds him and he has to snort at how good she is of dragging him back to the here and now. Their teasing friendship works well for him, not so close that he feels trapped, but close enough that he knows she can understand how he reacts to things.

It makes him huff out a small snort, turning away from the road and instead focussing on her. “Does everyone else know where he’s going except for me?” He asks, because it sure feels like he’s the only one not aware of where the hell Shane had taken Maggie and Glenn on their little day trip. “That ain’t fair.” He grumbles, but there is no real anger in it, more just a sense of discomfort over it all. Daryl can’t say he’s happy that Shane has gone on a run without him, but he’s not angry, just a little on edge about it all. Still he nudges at Carol’s ribs, lets his voice sound a little smoother, younger, when he continues. “You can tell me now though, ain’t like Shane’s gonna know about it.” He wheedles, and that gets her laughing out right.

“And ruin your surprise for you?” She shakes her head at him, reaching out to prod at his ribs, and it shows how far he’s come that he doesn’t flinch at all anymore. “I don’t think so. Stop being so sneaky Daryl, you’ll find out soon enough anyhow, don’t think it’ll be more than a few hours now.” She checks her watch as Daryl checks the sun, and even if Shane had said it was far, he still hates how long he’s been gone.

He’d left early this morning, now it was hitting noon and they still weren’t back. It makes his body itch beneath his skin, something inside of him uncomfortable at being apart from Shane for so long. He’d never thought he’d be this damned dependant on someone else, but Shane had gone and wedged himself into his life, making it difficult to concentrate when he didn’t know where he was. Sighing a little he runs his fingers through his hair, grumbling a little as he kicks at the ground. “Still too long.”

“He’ll be fine.” Carol reassures him, and she sounds so damned certain of it all. Like she just knows everything is going to turn out fine when Shane gets back. He’s just not used to this kind of stability, this trust he has, the faith he puts in the other man. It’s strange to not have to fight for every moment, every second of peace. Carol just seems to know how he thinks, how he’s always waiting for the shit to hit the fan and turn his life back into a mess of fear and fighting. Optimism has never been something he’s had, it was always kind of hard to think of the glass as half full when it was already smashed to pieces and cutting at your skin.

Sighing a little he leans back against one of the tables in their makeshift outside dining area, letting Carol skin the rabbits he’d brought back as he glances over their home. Rick and Carl are down in the garden, digging up more plots for more crops, fighting against the hardening ground to try and squeeze more time from it before winter set in properly. Other people mill about the place, hanging up laundry, some down by the fences and taking out walkers. There is still always someone on watch, that fear of the unknown coming for them always keeping them wary and watching out. Tyreese leads a team in constructing a real shelter for Flame the horse they’d managed to rope a week back, and he can see the work starting to happen on a pen too. There were a multitude of animals out there that had broken free from their farms, living wild and waiting for them to bring them in. He’d caught track of some pigs the other day and he knows everyone has been thinking of expanding the farm past just crops.

Across their yard stands the prison, strong and with thick walls, the doors propped open and letting out the sounds of children playing, people laughing. He’s never had a real home before, but this one is starting to feel like something real, permanent for them. Down over the way, kept against one wall of the prison, away from the fences and kept safe is their own graveyard. Wooden crosses stand tall, trinkets, items that had belonged to the dead hanging from them, marking them as more than just a name. The people they’d lost since they got here. Lori. T-Dog. Some he never got to meet. And the freshest grave, with the dirt still settling over it all, stands out to him even from this distance.

“You going to see him today?” Carol is watching him as she washes her hands, and there is no mockery there. Just plain, honest, understanding.

It makes him kick at the gravel beneath his feet, dragging the heel of his boot over the ground before he shrugs. “It’s stupid.” He mutters, head dropped, eyes on the ground, ashamed of how even after all this time, it still feels so raw to him.

Hands land on his uppers arms, cold from the water, but gentle, not making him flinch as Carol rubs over his skin a few times. Just until he’s brave enough to glance up to meet her eyes. She’s not smiling, but she’s not frowning, there is just a look of pure understanding, and maybe a little sadness behind it all. “No it’s not.” She tells him, fingers still skating over his skin, rubbing gently, soothing him, and letting him know that she doesn’t think of him as being weak for this. “You’re allowed to grieve Daryl.”

He knows that, but it still feels wrong. Daryl can see it in the way the Woodbury people look at him, how they sometimes can’t quite hide a sneer quick enough for him not to notice. There is a sense on confusion from Beth every time he goes past her to walk down to their graveyard. Even the people in their group, the few from Atlanta that had known Merle a little more than others, seemed to look at him like he was wasting his time. As if it was wrong to mourn Merle at all. He knows they don’t say it, they try to hide it, but he can feel it, he knows what they thought of his brother and sometimes he doesn’t want to disappoint them by still caring. But he can’t help it. He misses him anyway.

Shoving his hands in his pockets he gives another shrug, purposefully not doing it hard enough to dislodge Carol’s touch. His voice is low when he talks, head still dipped down, and he knows only she can hear him. It’s easier when he knows she’s the only person who won’t judge him. “A lot of the Woodbury people felt betrayed by him.” He mutters, and having that anger still surrounding them when they look at him hurts. “I know the Governor told them stuff to make them hate him. To turn them against him. And it’s not like he was liked by any of you guys either.” He points out, because he knows that. He gets that to everyone else Merle was just some racist, redneck, backwoods piece of shit that would do anything to piss you off as soon as he saw you. But to him, there was so much more to his brother.

If there was ever anybody apart from Shane that would get it, he knows its Carol. Because the thing is, she’s been there. She’d loved someone once, stood by his side and been there even when he wasn’t a good person. Even when he’d turned out to be nothing but an abusive piece of shit, he knows she still had memories she held dear of the better times. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it’s close, and he knows that she gets it. She understands why he’d shed tears so many damned times over the death of someone everybody else had hated. Because she’d done it too.

It’s why she doesn’t pull away from him when others would. It’s why she leans up on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his forehead and brushes his hair from his eyes when he tries to hide behind it. “Daryl, we didn’t meet Merle until after the infection, after the world had gone to hell. You knew him your whole life.” She reminds him, and he gives another shrug in answer before she continues. “Maybe we didn’t get along with him, maybe we didn’t understand him, but you did Daryl. You’re grieving your brother. You knew him, you loved him and screw whatever anybody else thinks. You’re allowed to mourn him.”

Daryl doesn’t want to cry anymore. He’s done his crying, shed his tears and spent almost a week at the bottom of every bottle of booze they had to try and get rid of the loss churning inside of himself. It still hurts, and he feels weak for having to wipe at his eyes before talking. “He wasn’t a good person. Wasn’t even a half decent brother really.” He points out, but every time he thinks of something that had pissed him off about Merle, one of the good memories creeps up and hits him hard, making him feel guilty for ever thinking wrong of his blood.

But Carol is there, understanding, and Daryl doesn’t know how she’s possibly come this far through her own grief to be so strong. He’d lost his brother, but Carol had gone so long not knowing about Sophia, and when she’d finally gotten her answers they hadn’t been good ones. Yet she’s still here, still standing, still fighting, and helping guide his dumbass through his own grief for someone who wasn’t even nice. But she gets it, and her voice is so understanding when she speaks. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t love you, and that you didn’t love him. It’s going to hurt. Losing someone always does, but if it helps to go see him, then you should do it. Take all the time you need to mourn, we’ll still be here.”

He knows that. Even if he’s just gotten back to these people, only just starting to feel at ease with them, he knows they’re a family now. And family didn’t quit on family. “Is it crazy that I talk to him sometimes?” He asks, a small huff of something that might have been a laugh once escaping him as he tries to move on from the sorrow that tugs at his chest.

“No.” She brushes his hair back once more before pulling back, just enough to nudge him in the direction of the graveyard. “I don’t think anything is crazy if it helps.” Carol tells him and he’s glad that she understands. They share one last small smile between them, Carol nudges him again and Daryl gives a nod before he pulls away.

Heading over to the graveyard he takes another glance at the main gates, sees them still locked tight, with no sign of any vehicles approaching. It makes him sigh and check the sun again, but Shane had said he’d be back, so he’ll be back. He wants all the answers now, but it looks like he’ll have to be patient and wait a while longer before his partner gets back. There are only a few graves, but it’s still more than enough. So many people had been taken before their time, and so many of them had given their lives for others. He has never asked about Lori, it was still something so fresh for Rick, and he didn’t want to ask Carl when his own mother’s death had happened half a lifetime ago and still hurt sometimes. It’s something he doesn’t want to bring up with Shane, and he knows that Judith had been brought into the world at full term. There wasn’t much more that needed to be said.

So he steps around the graves, never walking over any of them, until he gets to the one on the end, the freshest grave. The dirt is still mounded, grass slowly beginning to crop up here and there over it. There are no flowers, Merle wouldn’t have appreciated them anyhow, instead his brother’s name is carved into the cross, simple, honest, nothing more than the bare essentials for Merle’s grave. It had been hard. When Shane and he had gotten back with Merle’s body, he’d not been coping well. The tears had stopped but so had everything else. For a while he’d just felt numb, hadn’t spoken, had barely even acknowledged anybody else existing. Shane had steered him through it, and even if the other man had still had a bullet wound in his shoulder, he’d stayed with him and dug the grave. There was no funeral, no words to be said, instead they’d just buried him, Daryl fashioning the cross himself, and after all was finished he’d just been so lost.

It had been difficult to cope. Sure there had been times throughout his life when Merle hadn’t been there, but Daryl had always had the knowledge that he’d turn up again at some point. That was just how Merle was, the type of guy that would crop up unexpectedly and drag him along on whatever his latest scheme was. Maybe he wasn’t reliable, but he’d always come back eventually. Even when they’d been separated after Atlanta, he’d always had that gut feeling that Merle would show up again soon enough. But not anymore. They’d made sure Merle’s death was permanent.

In a way it was better like this. He knew what had happened to Merle, he knew he wasn’t out there, milling about in a herd of walkers and feasting on human flesh. Least he had closure unlike so many other people. It should be better, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it.

The first week had been the worst. He’d been lost, numb, feeling completely hollow through it all. Shane had been there of course, steering him through it all, guiding him when he’d just been so damned empty. Everyone else was still too new to him, still not close enough for him to feel comfortable about breaking down in front of them. So he’d found their alcohol supplies and ended up drinking his way through them. At first he’d been quiet, too lost to care about talking about it with anyone, and they’d respected that. But as the week had drawn on, he’d broken down, falling into a pathetic mess of tears and sobs on the floor of their cell until Shane had found him.

They’d talked. Or he’d cried and babbled on about Merle into Shane’s chest as the other man had held him through it all. He’d broken down, and before he’d never understood why people said something like that, but after going through it he finally understands what they meant. It had felt like falling into pieces, and everything he’d ever tried so hard to keep inside had fallen out. He had never been so good at opening up about himself, but after that everything had just come out. He’s glad it had been Shane with him. The other man holding him through it all, guiding him to their bed, curling around him and helping him feel not so alone about it all. Shane had held him together, and just listened to everything he had to say. There had been no judgement, no mention of how much of an asshole Merle had been, instead there had just been pure understanding as Shane had listened to him talk about his brother. Because that’s the thing, even if he’d been an ass, a racist, a bully, and someone that preferred to get people hating him than liking him, Merle had still been his brother.

Merle had always been the only one who cared about him before now. Before Shane.

The other two men were so alike and had never realised it. It still hurts that Merle was gone, but he knows if he hadn’t had Shane there helping him through it, he wouldn’t still be here today.

Settling on the grass he crosses his legs, leaning on them as he sits before the wooden cross. There is no ornament or trinket on Merle’s grave. Just a simple wooden cross with his name carved there, no dates, no epitaph, just ‘Merle’. Daryl figures it describes his brother better than any of his pathetic attempts to honour his memory. It works. And he hadn’t wanted that fucking bayonet on display either, because his brother wasn’t a vicious weapon for people to gawk over. He was just Merle. It still feels a little stupid to sit here, but just like every other time he’s been here, soon he feels comfortable enough to open his mouth.

“Still pissed with you.” It’s how he always begins, because for some reason it’s easier this way. Was always easier to start a fight with Merle over actually talking to each other like regular siblings. “Can’t believe you just up and left me back here. Playing your own fucked up version of hero.” He complains, because if there was ever anything that hurt, it was knowing that Merle had just been doing what he always did. Protecting him.

Ever since they were kids. He doesn’t think he remembers a time where Merle wasn’t looking out for him. Maybe nobody else could see it nowadays, maybe their lives had just been so damned picture perfect and clean cut that they could never see someone like Merle in the role of a saviour. But that’s what he’d been. Merle had never been just a brother to him; he’d been so much more. Father, mother, friend, confidant, sibling, rival, bully, protector, you name it and Merle was it for him. People didn’t see it. Couldn’t see it. Maybe Merle just never wanted anybody else to see it but Daryl.

“Still pissed with Shane but it’s easier to forgive someone if they’re still around.” He points out, legs crossed, fingers already picking at each other, thumb coming up to his mouth so he can nip at his thumbnail. It feels stupid to talk to a grave, but for some strange reason, it does help and he knows it’s a lot healthier than drinking his way through a bottle of whiskey. He’s lucky that Shane had been there to help him out, to keep him from doing something stupid. That makes him snort out a laugh and he can’t help but compare the two of them again. “You guys are more alike than either of you could admit. He told me about the plan you know? How both of you were thinking the same damned thing.”

Because it hadn’t taken long for Shane to explain it all to him. Between the other man driving them back to the prison with Merle’s body in the trunk, to Shane having that damned bullet removed and the wound sewn up. Shane had told him how it had all come about. How Merle had been honest with him for the first time since he’d known him, and how it made Shane know that they had to do something together. They both wanted to work together, just to keep him safe. It makes the guilt churn in his gut again, but it’s such a familiar feeling, to be guilty because Merle got hurt protecting him. It’s been a lifetime, and it still feels the exact same way it did when he was seven years old and crying in the corner of their room.

Instead of the tears he lets the anger out instead, because true to his word he is still pissed at them both for doing that. “Should have known you’d both rush in headfirst, trying to both get the glory of killing the Governor.” He snorts out a laugh, because fuck it was so much easier to think of Shane and Merle bickering in the truck, trying to hash out some kind of a plan when really they both preferred to run in guns blazing. He knows they would have fought, he knows there would have been the urge to be reckless, and without him there it must have been something within them both that kept them focused and able to actually make a plan. More alike than they’d ever know.

Picking at the grass he sighs, letting the anger fall from his tense shoulders and fade away, because there are a lot of things he feels when he comes here, but the worst one is the fear. “He’s still out there, somewhere.” And he knows that Merle is probably swearing from the beyond about that fact. His brother was never one to let someone get away with hurting his family. “Michonne and Andrea are looking for him. Trying to track him down and take care of it. I wanted to go, better tracker you know? But Shane figured it would be a dumb idea since the asshole wanted to kill me so bad.” He’d fought of course, wanted to get out there and kill the man who killed his brother, even if killing another human still seemed too much for him. But Shane had been there, switching their usual roles and holding him back, talking to him through the anger and the upset, reminding him of just what happened the last time that asshole had gotten his hands on him.

Then Shane had spoken to him, held his face in his hands and told him about what Merle had said. The mere thought of it makes him pause, makes him need to breathe for just a moment and wipe at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “See he’s still keeping that dumbass promise you forced him to make.” Daryl growls, and he hates that after all these years Merle still had secrets from him. “Yeah he told me about it. Think it’s all bullshit, never needed anyone to look after me before all this, still don’t need it now.” He points out, the lie he’s been telling himself for years being repeated again. It was easier that way, to keep the image he’d hidden behind all these years. Only a few people were allowed past it, and dammit maybe he kind of liked someone knowing the real him.

Sighing a little he knows he’s probably doing this whole mourning thing wrong. Some people cried for hours on end, he’d done that part, but he wasn’t so sure what would be the next step. Drinking hadn’t helped anybody, and he’d just been so damned lost after everything. He’s lucky Shane had been there for him, someone to hold him together when he felt like he was breaking, and there were so many people he didn’t know watching the show.

“Didn’t need anybody before all of this.” He reminds Merle, giving a loose shrug again as he plucks at more grass. “Guess he did help after you went and got yourself killed though. Kinda lost myself for a little while there.” He’d just felt so empty, and like all his nerves were on show for everybody else to walk over. Dixons never did emotions well, and having an audience had just made him want to ignore it all. Breaking down hadn’t been a pretty sight, and he’d gotten through almost a whole bottle of booze before Shane had caught him. Held him. Hushed him and let him just break for a moment, and with Shane, he’d never felt like he was exposed. It just felt natural for Shane to be the one there to hold him together.

“Shane helped.” He lets Merle know, because if there is one thing that Merle would be worrying about instead of resting in peace, it would be his little brother’s safety. Daryl doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to calm Merle’s worries completely, his brother was just like that, but he thinks it’ll help both of them to just say it out loud. “He’s still helping now you know?”

Everyday could be a struggle. Some days he woke up fine and could carry on, but then some days, like today, he just needed an hour or so to break. Sometimes it was here at Merle’s grave, sometimes it was curled in their bunk at night with his mouth pressed to Shane’s shoulder to hide the mumbles about how much he missed his big brother. But Shane’s always been there, and after everything they’ve been through he feels pretty damned certain that the other man is always gonna be there for him.

“I know you weren’t best friends with the guy, but he’s good. He’s good for me.” Maybe it took a few months, an unhealthy need for release mixed with their separation from the group, but where they were now was worth it. Shane had become so much more than just a partner to him, and he knows it’s mutual. Smirking a little he can’t help but glance to Merle’s grave, the humour of the situation not missed on him. “I know you wouldn’t have wanted to hear this when you were alive, but you’re dead now, can’t run away and ignore me so easily.” And it’s something he wishes he could have told Merle before.

“Me and Shane, I know you’d never approve of it all. But you made him make that promise, and I know you wouldn’t say that shit to just anybody.” Both of them weren’t so good with sharing, but if Merle had told Shane about their mom about something that meant so much to him, then maybe his brother could see just how important Shane was to him too. “Maybe you never told me, but I think you saw it. Think you know the kind of man Shane is. Think you know what he is to me.”

The wind blows, he drops more torn grass onto the ground, and even if there is no answer at loud, he still feels like he’s gotten enough of one to continue. “It wasn’t meant to be anything at first. Was just something that happened. Fuck Merle I remember you telling me the shit you did in prison because it was the only stuff available. It started out like that.” Because it really had been just a release, and Shane had been just another body; until he wasn’t. “But then, it got complicated. It became something.” The word makes him smile and he can almost feel Merle rolling his eyes at him.

“That’s what we call it.” He tells him, and really it’s like they’re a couple of teenagers instead of two fully grown men when he says it out loud. “Dumb right? Calling it a something instead of what it really is. Like we’re both too afraid to say what it really is, like it’s a damned secret or some shit. Ain’t no secret, everybody knows.” And nobody cares. That’s the thing that really caught him off guard. Not even Hershel and his daughters who were religious gave a damn, heck the old man seemed to have silently given them his blessing if that made any sense. People just seemed to accept it and move on. Like they didn’t have time to let it be a problem.

“Nobody here cares about it.” He tells Merle, because maybe that’s a part of the reason Merle had been so against it, because he’d seen what people did to faggots in their home town. “Seems after humanity went to shit, everybody else stopped caring about who’s giving it to who and what sex they are too. Point is, I know one of the reasons you didn’t like it was because of what could happen if anybody found out. The shit dad told us, about what the guys of his generation would do to someone if they found out he was a faggot. But, that ain’t a problem here.” People had bigger worries than who was sleeping with who.

The Woodbury people were still new to him, still people he knew by face but not by name, and he had no intention of wanting to know them. But Rick and the group? He was getting to know them a lot better. Carol and he had fallen back into their close friendship and that had helped, but everybody else acted like he was one of them, just a family member who got lost but was now home. He’d never had affection like that before, never had people willing to accept every little bit of him without question. It was nice. It was good, and he’s trying with them. He really is. “Ain’t a problem with these people. They’re good, they’re decent, and I know you must have seen that since you went and managed to save them alongside me with your hero stunt.” He scoffs, because even if his brother hadn’t exactly made friends, he knew he had their silent respect for what he went and did. Even Glenn and Maggie had made sure not to ever speak of him badly after he’d been buried here. It was small, but it was something.

Fucking something. That was their word for it wasn’t it? The thought makes him crack another small smile and he can’t help but let out a small laugh to Merle when he continues. “Shane is something to me alright? Ain’t gonna go calling him my boyfriend, Christ could you imagine the smug look on his face if I did?” Because Shane would be nothing but cocky, grinning all day about it and making Daryl roll his eyes and a regret it immediately. “But he is a good man. Sure he can be a little hot headed, and he doesn’t always think before he jumps into something, but he’s good. He’s important to me.” He can at least say that fact with certainty and a nod to Merle’s silent grave. “Not going to say any sappy bullshit to you Merle, but I figure you should know that with Shane around, I’m gonna be okay you know?”

There is no answer from the lopsided wooden cross, nor the still disturbed earth of the grave before him. So for a while he just sits in silence at Merle's grave. When Merle had been alive there had barely been a quiet moment between them, because that was just how Merle was, loud, brash and always making sure you knew where he was. His brother was a talker, whether to mock, or jeer, or tease or say something crass, Merle was always talking. Heck, even when he was asleep his brother snored loud enough to keep him awake, to annoy him even when he was unconscious. So it doesn't feel natural to sit near Merle in silence, it reminds him too much of the night before he died, when he'd trailed to his big brother's cell and just sat with him a while, because goodbyes were too hard and he was too chicken shit to open his mouth in case he'd given away his fear. It had all been for jack shit in the end, because this is where they'd ended up. With him at his brother's side as always, been following him since he was a toddler, why change the habit of a lifetime now? Only big difference was the silence, and it makes him itch to do something, to not be able to focus on it and how strange it felt to be near a silent Merle.

Daryl hunts through his pocket, tugs out his latest project along with his knife, and smiles to himself. It's stupid really, but he knows he wants to do it. Running his fingers over the small, flat rock, he lets it rest in the palm of his hand, checking it over like he always does, just in case it had gotten battered about in his pocket. He'd found it a week or so ago, just along the edge of the prison perimeter, when he'd been rechecking the fences and taking out the odd walker. The stone is fairly decent in size and weight, about the same size as a dollar coin but heavier of course. It's smooth, flat, rounded into a fat teardrop shape and perfect for what he's been planning, a dark shade of grey that could almost appear silver if he shined it enough. Running his fingers over it he checks the hole he's drilled through the top of it, making sure it's smooth where he'd sanded the rough edges down. So far it's perfect, and he's pathetically proud of his little project. It's not much, but it'll all be worth it in the end.

The knife is almost too large for this, heavy, brash and it seems wrong to use it, but it's the sharpest thing he's got and he doesn't quite trust something that isn't his for this job. Even if that sounds a little crazy, it's almost too personal to use anything else. So he goes careful, bracing the stone in his palm, and holding his knife by the blade, almost like a pencil as he carefully begins scratching away at the smooth face of the stone. He's carved things before, usually arrows out of suitable sticks he'd found, but that was all about survival, this little project was simply because he could. Because he wants to. It takes a good amount of concentration, he swears a few times when the tip of the blade slips over the smooth surface and threatens to scratch it, but he's lucky, and maybe a bit too dedicated to making sure it's perfect. Blowing away the dust he continues on, checking for any signs of cracks forming, and feeling pleased when the stone stays together, almost as if it knows how important it is. It takes a few more times remarking it, carving the same lines over and over, making it deep enough to be seen, to be permanent, but he thinks he's getting it close to perfect.

It’s the sound of hooves on the packed dirt of the prison entrance that catches his attention, and he closes his fingers around the stone as he looks up to see their return. Andrea and Michonne have been gone a day or so, exploring the territory around them, looking for places to scavenge, but mainly looking for signs of the Governor. It’s a relief every time they return, he knows how insane that asshole was, and there is always a niggle of fear that they may end in a situation similar to the one he’d been in. He never wants anybody else to go through that.

Rick and Carl are the ones that let them in, leaving their shovels in the ground near their little farm, swinging open the gates and greeting them both with open arms. It’s so easy for them to let them in, and even if he’s still trying to find his place in this little family of theirs, he’s glad that Michonne is finding it easier than him. Her and Andrea have hit it off perfectly, and if he didn’t know any better he’d have thought they’d known each other their whole lives with the way they acted around each other. Flame the horse trots inside the prison grounds, and after the women have dismounted he’s free to roam the courtyard, to explore the newest additions in the pig pen they’ve made and rest in his stable. They don’t look to have gathered much, but Michonne does grab one of the saddlebags and take something from it for Carl.

It makes the kid smile, and he’s glad of that. Carl’s seen too much for someone his age, he should be allowed to smile and enjoy something as innocent as a comic book. Watching from his spot, he’s glad that things are slowly beginning to work out here. The prison may not have been the most ideal place before the walkers, but for now it’s working and they’re getting everything in place for it to have a future for them all. Glancing back to the grave before him, he knows a lot of that is due to Merle, due to his brother, and there is a flare of pride over it all when he thinks of how many people will be safe because of that. Merle had given them a chance, and he’d be damned if they were going to waste it.

Settling back to his project, he can see that it’s taking shape, starting to look just how it wants it. Blowing off the dust he traces the carvings, making sure that they’re as identical as he can get them, deep enough into the stone that they’ll never wear away, or be chipped. He’s pleased with it, and he’s about to let it slip back into his pocket when he hear the oncoming footsteps behind him. Looking back he finds Michonne smiling to him as she approaches, careful in her steps not to stand on any of the graves as she makes her way beside him. He doesn’t mind having her here; she’s helped in her own way after everything went to hell. A friendly face from Woodbury, someone to help bridge that gap between the two sides that lived here, and she didn’t judge. Michonne had never looked down on him for mourning his brother, and she’d even soothed his fears that he was going insane for talking to a dead person, mentioning that she had spoken to her dead boyfriend after he’d turned into a walker. Having someone on his side had helped a lot, and he’d glad to have someone he considers a friend at his side nowadays.

“Find anything?” He has to ask, because he has to know, because everyday he sees the scar on his forearm he is reminded of just how dangerous that man out there is. He never wants anybody else to go through that.

Michonne shakes her head, and there is a tinge of unease that lives in his gut because of her answer. But it’s not necessarily bad news. Maybe the Governor was already dead and there was nothing left to find anyway. He could hope. Still he hangs his head, running his thumb over the face of the stone and trying to distract himself with better things. A hand on his shoulder makes him look up again.

“No news is good news for the moment.” She reminds him and he knows that’s true. Right now they had a lot of jobs to be done around the prison, and focussing on the Governor wasn’t going to help anybody. So he nods in return, and tries to share in her optimism. “I did find one thing though, I think it might work.” Fishing in her pocket she brings out a length of black cord, waxed, thick, and strong.

Taking it in his hand he plays with it, finding the length to be appropriate, tugging on it to test its strength, the durability and he finds himself smiling, all worries about the Governor shoved to the back of his mind for the moment. “It’s perfect.” He finds himself saying, measuring both ends of the cord he finds the middle and begins easing the fold of cord through the hole in the stone. “Was worried a chain would be too fragile, would snap easy, but this could work.” It takes some coaxing, some tugging and twisting, but the centre fold goes through enough that he can pass both ends of the cord through it, pulling them through until the stone is tied to the centre of the length. Tugging it a little he feels the weight of it, watches as the stone hangs perfectly in the centre, not spinning, facing the right way and ready to be given to Shane. He feels a little foolish, but he still has to turn and ask Michonne for her opinion. “Think he’ll like it?”

She smiles again, reaching out to feel the stone pendant, running her thumb over the carvings and giving a small huff of laughter over it all. “He’ll love it.” She tells him, and Daryl hopes she’s right. “You should give it to him when he gets back.”

That makes him huff in annoyance, taking the gift back and tucking it back into his pocket for the moment. “If he ever gets back from his damned mystery trip.” He grumbles, and he can’t help it if he hates the other man being out there alone.

Michonne nudges him, smile still on her face when he looks up to her. “He’ll be fine. Don’t be mad at him, it’ll all make sense when he gets back.” She soothes him, but he hates that everybody else seems to be in on this surprise Shane’s been working on. It makes him feel left out, isolated when he feels like that enough already in the prison. “You’re worrying too much, he’s more than capable of looking after himself.” She points out, and that makes him sigh again.

“Bullshit, he always manages to get himself into some kind of trouble when I’m not there to save his ass. Only reason he made it through the winter was because of me.” He points out, even if it was only mostly true. They’d both been the reason they survived that first winter together, finding each other’s strengths and weaknesses, helping each other survive and getting closer every day. It makes Shane’s absence even more pronounced and he can’t help but worry. Bad shit always happened when they were separated, he’d just feel a damned sight better if Shane would hurry up. “I’m gonna kick his ass when he gets back here. Stupid idiot planning some dumb surprise mission like it’s not dangerous out there.” He grumbles and he knows Michonne is going to try to calm him down again when he hears it.

The low hum of an engine, the crackle of tyres over road, the sound of a vehicle approaching from the main road. Immediately he’s looking over, anger forgotten when the flatbed truck comes into view, coming on up the road as smoothly as you like, as if it was nothing but a regular day and there weren’t walkers at the fences. Rick and Carl are on the gates again, tugging them open so the truck can get through before locking them up and keeping the walkers at bay. It’s like a knot forms in his chest as the truck drives up the courtyard, parking up with its tarp covered goodies in the back before the engine turns off. For a moment there is panic, worry, and fear as he sees Glenn and Maggie jump out of the truck to hug Hershel and Beth. But then there is the well known figure of Shane getting out, shotgun over his shoulder, one arm held out to allow Carl close in greeting. All the fear, the worry, the anger and the uncertainty comes out in one big rush of a sigh, and Daryl’s fingers relax from the death grip they had on the gift in his pocket.

Michonne is smiling again, hand held out to help him to his feet. “You gonna come kick his ass now? Or later?” She asks and he gives a huff of an answer before he takes her hand and gets to his feet.

He never quite knows what to say when he leaves Merle’s grave. It’s not like his brother has ever been one for manners, so there is no need to be polite and say farewell, but he still feels like he should say something. But there are no words he can find, there hadn’t been any before when he’d tried to say goodbye to Merle the night before he died either. Instead he simply pauses a moment, rests a hand to the top of the crooked cross with his brother’s name carved on it and hopes that he’s at least given Merle’s soul a little bit of reassurance that he’s going to be okay. Michonne waits for him to join her before they make their way back to the courtyard together, and he’s grateful that she doesn’t look at him oddly for needing to say goodbye.

Walking past the building he can’t stop the relief from spreading through him, each step closer to Shane makes it easier to breathe. He watches as some items are taken from the cab of the truck, a book is handed to Beth, a bible is given to Hershel and he can see as they begin to fall into tears that they meant something to them. Usually getting back from a run brought excitement, relief and joy at getting things to make their lives easier, but he can’t understand why they’re so happy over getting a couple of books. But people have always been weird to him, so maybe it’s just another one of those moments he’ll never understand.

Standing beside the truck bed he watches as Shane tugs something free from his back pack, a thick bound book by the looks of things, and hands it to Rick. He can’t hear what is said, but he figures the book must mean something to the other man since in seconds he’s hugging Shane hard and looks to be biting back tears. It’s not that he’s jealous, he knows Rick and Shane are just friends, he’s just a little lost as to why people were getting so damned happy over books today. Even Carl hugs Shane tightly, thanks him over and over again as he begins to flick through the pages, and it’s when the kid pauses on a page that Daryl is close enough to see what it is.

A photo album. He swears he’s seen it before somewhere. But it’s a photo album of the Grimes family. He can see images he knows he’s been shown before, even if he never cared about them. Pictures of Carl as a baby, pictures of the Grimes’ wedding day, and the image that has Carl crying and Rick thanking Shane over and over, is a picture of Lori. She’s smiling, just looking so natural and happy, caught in a moment of joy and saved forever in a snapshot. It niggles at the back of his mind that he can’t place where he’d seen it all before, but he figures maybe things are a little mixed up nowadays since each day seems to be more stressful than the last.

Still he waits as patiently as he can, and after the Greenes and the Grimes have headed back inside the cellblock, with Andrea and Michonne taking an armful of supplies each as they follow them, it leaves just he and Shane by the tarp covered truck. Stepping closer he can’t help as he automatically begins scanning Shane’s body for injuries, hands reaching out to skate over his arms for any kind of nick or scratch. There is nothing there fortunately, and it means he feels more than justified in punching the other man’s shoulder before folding his arms to show his annoyance. “Finished your little surprise mission now?” He asks, and he can’t help if he sounds pretty damned pissed with the other man.

Shane at least has the decency to look a little sheepish, ducking his head as he steps closer to him, that damned half grin on his face already. “Aw don’t be like that baby, came back safe and sound didn’t I?” He points out, and Daryl knows the only reason he’s a little pissed right now is because of that fact. If Shane had been injured or something he’d be worried, but right now he was allowed to be angry since everything had gone to plan. Shane can see it, Shane knows him too well to be offended by it all, and his partner gives a small laugh before he continues. “Everything went fine, didn’t see more than a couple of walkers. Told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“Wouldn’t have had to worry if I’d’ve known where you were goin’.” Daryl points out, a grumble still in his voice even if the anger was slowly beginning to ebb away. He finds himself curious with the truck bed, the supplies still covered with the tarp seem to be large and he wonders if Shane thinks they’re going to bust their butts carrying it all inside when they’ve got a whole team of people able to help instead. “Hate when you pull shit like this on me.” He complains, but God he’s so glad he can complain to Shane because he’s still here and not bit.

His partner is all out grinning now, moving close enough to tease and run a hand down Daryl’s back, just to feel, just to reassure himself that he’s still there. “And ruin the surprise for you? No way.” Shane tells him, already moving to climb in the truck bed, waving aside his hands when he tries to help unknot the ties keeping the tarp in place. Fine if he wants to do it himself then let him.

“Well right now it seems a lot like it was a surprise for everybody else.” He points out, gesturing to the open doorway of the cellblock and where everybody else had gone, excited to fawn over their gifts that Shane had brought them. He’s not jealous, not one bit, Shane coming back whole and safe was more than enough for him.

But he might still look a little annoyed by it all, hence why Shane crouches before him in the truck bed and reaches out to run his fingers through his hair. “Hey now don’t be like that. Santa Shane has enough for everybody, and besides, yours is the biggest gift.” Shane tells him, and maybe there is an air of teasing about it all, but he can see there is some seriousness underneath it in Shane’s look. For a moment that has him confused, and a little worried, but his partner simply presses a kiss to his forehead before moving to remove the tarp from over it’s hidden gift.

For a moment, everything stops.

Daryl’s never really gotten a gift before. Weren’t no Santa in the Dixon household when he was a kid. The only thing he’d ever gotten that was his, was his crossbow. Even if Shane had been going on about a surprise, he hadn’t really been expecting anything. But this… this was more than a gift. It doesn’t quite feel real. He doesn’t know if he should believe it or not, but for some reason he’s too scared to reach out and touch it. Like if he does it might disappear or something. There is nobody else in his world right now, nobody except for he and Shane, and the gift sitting innocently on the back of the truck like it was always meant to be there.

Shane jumps off the truck bed to stand next to him, to join him in looking at the gift sitting there, chewing on his lower lip like he’s worried or something. Daryl can’t stop looking between the two of them, from Shane to the truck bed, and back again as he tries to take it all in. He feels stupid for getting choked up over it, and damn maybe he gets why Beth, Hershel, Rick and Carl had been in tears earlier. Beside him Shane shifts in place, Daryl feels more than sees him rub at the back of his head, and he knows he should probably have said something by now but there are no words in the English language that could describe how much this means to him. It’s overwhelming, and he finds himself frozen in place almost, only able to lean into the arm that Shane snakes around his lower back to keep him steady.

“I know it ain’t much, but I promised you I’d go back for it someday.” Shane tells him, voice low, shared between only the two of them and hidden from the rest of the world. He feels like he’s shaking from the inside out, and since the words still fail him, he nods instead. “I can’t bring your brother back, but I know he’d want you to have it Daryl.”

That makes him laugh a little, because Merle was an overly possessive son of a bitch, and every time he’d been away or locked up, there had been threats given to ensure that Daryl didn’t touch his bike when he was gone. But now he was gone for good, the only thing left was his damned bike, and now it was here, for him. Merle’s bike was here and sitting in the back of the damned truck Shane had taken on his fucking surprise mission this morning. The reason it had been kept so quiet and secret from him, not to hurt him, not to make him feel left out, but to give him something to make him feel like he belongs. It feels like too much and he’s pressing into Shane’s warmth beside him as he looks it over, needing that strength and stability when he feels so weak.

“I don’t know if it’ll still run, I don’t know if it’ll even turn over anymore. I just knew I had to try and get it for you.” He can hear the honesty in Shane’s voice, and he can finally understand just why everything had been so secretive. If he’d have gone back and not found it, it would have hurt even more. But he had, and it was here and real and Daryl can’t even begin to think of the right thing to say in this kind of situation.

He has to lick over his lips a few times and swallow until his throat isn’t so dry that he can actually speak, and when he does it sounds rough, sounds far too emotional for anyone else to hear but Shane. “You risked your dumbass on a trip all the way back to the farm for this?” He asks, and even if his head is still spinning with all the ways it could have gone wrong, the main thought at the forefront of his mind is how relieved he is that it went right.

When he can tear his gaze away from Merle’s bike long enough to look to his partner, Shane is smiling, looking so damned proud of himself and like he’d do it again a thousand times if he had to. His partner reaches up to use a thumb to wipe at the tear Daryl hadn’t even known had fallen down his cheek. “Was worth it.” Shane tells him, and Daryl really doesn’t know how in the hell he’s ever going to be able to let Shane know how much this means to him. There are no words that could do it justice.

So instead he turns to kiss him, winding his fingers in Shane’s shirt, tugging him closer and shoving their mouths together roughly. It’s not neat and clean, it’s raw and full of emotion, but he knows it’s the best way he can let Shane feel how he feels. So he kisses him hard, he shifts closer to press their bodies together and lets out a small sigh of happiness when Shane wraps his arms around his back and holds him close. Shane’s lips move against his, a tongue reaching out to stroke over his lower lip until he’s opening his mouth, letting Shane’s tongue delve inside and stroke over his own lightly. It’s everything he needs right now to keep him steady, and he knows that Shane understands everything he isn’t saying.

When he pulls back he doesn’t move out of the comfort of the other man’s arms, instead he presses further into his warmth, close enough that he can press their foreheads together and share a moment together. It’s their thing. Since the very beginning this has been something for them and right now he knows even if he can’t say a damned word, Shane understands. Shane knows him, Shane can feel what this means to him and won’t feel offended that he’s so overwhelmed by it all. Daryl presses firmly into him, their foreheads connected, his fingers still in Shane’s shirt, holding him steady and keeping him tethered when he feels so overwhelmed. It’s everything he needs right now, and Shane knows that.

For a while they just stand together, ignoring the rest of the world and just relying on each other and nothing else. It’s how it used to be before, when it was just the two of them on the road, and for a second Daryl misses that time. Things were easier when it was just the two of them, he’d never been so good with people, but in Shane’s own way he was trying to help, by returning Merle’s bike to him to give him something to anchor him here. It made the prison feel more permanent already, like it was his home too, and now the bike was here, he was supposed to be here too.

Shane moves to kiss his temple, his hands coming up to wipe at Daryl’s face again and remove all trace of tears from his cheeks. It makes him chuckle, and now he can breathe again Daryl can’t help but laugh a little at the situation. “I can’t believe you.” He huffs, still close, still only the two of them out here in their own private little world. “I spend all week makin’ you a present and you go outdo me before I have a chance to give it to you.” He gestures to the bike, and the stupid weight of the gift in his pocket feels ridiculously small compared to it.

“You made me a present?” Shane asks, greedy hands already mapping over Daryl’s body, trying to hunt it out as he grins and acts like a kid at Christmas. It’s pathetic, and Daryl knows it probably shouldn’t make him smile as much as it does. But he’d been trying to think of the right time to give his gift once it was finished, he figures he might as well do it now, even if Shane has already beaten him.

Pushing away the greedy hands, he slips his own into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the smoothness of the stone to hide it before he pulls it free. The black cord dangles free, but heck it wasn’t like he’d been planning on wrapping it or anything. “You ain’t allowed to laugh at it.” He tells Shane, getting some enjoyment from seeing the other man so excited over something so small. Already Shane is smiling, hands held out open, waiting for his gift and probably on the verge of begging for it. “Was the best I could do given the situation.” He shrugs, dropping the stone into Shane’s palm before pulling back, letting him see what it is and ready for any criticism coming his way.

It takes a moment for Shane to understand it fully. Daryl watches as the other man turns the stone in his hand, running his fingers over the flat face of it before holding the gift up by the cord. It hangs there, perfect centre of the string, a tear drop shaped stone pendant on a handmade necklace, with the number twenty-two carved into it. As Shane looks it over Daryl can feel himself blushing, feeling the foolishness of what he’d tried to do catching up with him. “It’s stupid I know.” He shrugs, wanting to snatch it back and hide it away again, but he’d given it now, he’d have to deal with the mockery. “But I figured since it’s my fault you lost your other one, was the least I could do.” Again he shrugs, kicking at the dirt beneath their feet, feeling the fool and wondering when Shane was going to start laughing.

He doesn’t. Instead Shane has a look of complete adoration on his face as he studies the handmade necklace, his fingers running over the numbers repeatedly as he grins. “You made this for me?” He asks, and Daryl of course nods in reply. “It’s perfect.” Shane smiles, his hands already tugging the knotted cord over his head to let the necklace settle into place, the stone pendant clear in the hollow of his throat and shining the number twenty-two bright and clear. It’s pretty damned obvious to see, and Daryl can’t decide if he likes that fact or is worried by it. Either way Shane doesn’t seem to mind, and looks ready to wear the replacement from now until the end of time. “I love it, thank you.”

Another kiss is pressed to his lips, and Daryl doesn’t even care if anybody else is watching right now. All he needs is Shane, and by the feel of it, all Shane needs is him, and he’ll take that with both hands. He doesn’t know how the hell it’s ended up this way, but he’s not going to complain when everything is falling into place. Kisses are pressed against his lips, over his neck and he can’t help but grin at Shane’s small murmured words of thanks in between each one.

“’s nothin’.” He mumbles, trying to swat the other man off of him, trying to regain some shred of whatever dignity he has left. Shane doesn’t seem to notice, and continues trying to pepper tiny kisses all over his face. “Quit it Walsh! You don’t cut it out an’ I’m gonna toss this one in the river too.” He grumbles, trying to sound threatening, but it’s difficult when every word is muffled by the kisses Shane keeps pressing to the corner of his lips.

Eventually the other man seems to notice his resistance, and stops, even if he’s still holding Daryl close, arms wrapped around him enough that Shane can rest his chin on Daryl’s shoulder. It’s the perfect position for Shane to glance over the motorbike in the truck bed, and Daryl can almost feel the excitement and hope that is thrumming through Shane when he asks, “Want to take it for a spin?”

There is a longing inside of him that’s been stunted since he’d lost the bike, but now it’s turned to a worry as well. What if it didn’t work anymore? Would the rest of the group be alright with him keeping something so useless around? At least if it were working then he could justify it, mentioning how easy it would be for small runs since it didn’t need as much fuel. But Shane gives him a squeeze, one that’s meant to be reassuring, and dammit the other man can read him too well. Daryl gives a shrug, as if it doesn’t matter to him if the thing still runs or not, and there is another teasing kiss planted over his pulse point before Shane pulls away.

Together they move the bike off the back of the truck bed, easing its weight down between them, making sure to do it carefully and not to scratch anything. It’s a bike, and Daryl knows that there is no way they’re going to be able to keep it clean and in pristine condition, but he still appreciates the effort Shane goes to in order to try and keep it untainted. There are cobwebs caught over the handlebars and he swipes them aside as best he can, trying to clean it up a bit with the well worn rag in his back pocket. The bike still looks tattered, but it’s still got both wheels, feels like some gas still left in the tank and it’s not too stiff or difficult to manoeuvre. Taking a deep breath, Daryl shares a look with Shane as he reaches beneath he seat for the hidden key, sharing a smile when he finds it untouched. Honestly it had been too much to dream of ever seeing Merle’s bike again, but now finding it untainted and even still with it’s key, feels like too much good luck.

He doesn’t hold out much hope that it’ll start. Months and months of sitting idly wouldn’t have been good for it, and it’s not like the bike wasn’t a relic before it got left. Still he feels like humouring Shane, and maybe there is a little part of himself that really does hope it’ll start. As childish as it may be, it’ll feel like the bike was more real, more alive to him if that made any sense. He doesn’t know why he’d be disappointed if it didn’t start, but there is that worry in his gut nevertheless.

Slipping the key into the ignition he turns it on, giving the bike a few moments to wake itself up as he prepares everything else. It was an old bike anyhow, Merle had won the thing in a card game and then they’d both spent time tweaking it, making it work, getting it into a pretty damned good condition and as reliable as all the newer bikes around. Maybe it’s why he wants it to work so badly, because it was something they’d both been a part of, and if the bike works, then maybe there’s still a little part of Merle left in the world. It’s pathetic really, so he ignores the want in his gut and instead focuses on getting the bike ready. Turning the switches he knows so well and moving to straddle it properly so he can brace the weight of the thing.

Shane stays to his side, one hand beside his on the handlebars, standing as if he’s helping with the weight instead of just being there in silent support. It feels as if nothing has changed as he flicks through the right valves, making sure to tickle the carburettor and let the fuel flow for a few moments, dragging the kick start back and forth a few times to draw it through. He pauses for a moment as he sets the kick-start up, hands braced on the handlebars, eyes checking over every single thing one last time before he goes for it. Daryl knows it shouldn’t be a big deal, it shouldn’t feel as if he’s praying not to lose another person to this shit heap world, but it kind of does, and he’s so desperate for it to work. Closing his eyes, he braces himself, foot on the kick-start as he moves his whole body weight down onto it, hoping for something to go his way for once.

The choking, sputtering start of the engine is the best sound he’s heard all day, and Daryl can’t help but grin as the bike hums to life beneath him. Revving it up he lets it run over a few times, uncaring of the walkers possibly being drawn in to the fences, because right now this was more important. The bike works. It’s fucking working, ticking over easy enough, juddering with life and almost waiting for him to take it for a spin. It makes him laugh, and even if it’s not Merle he sees when he looks up, it still feels like a success when Shane smiles back to him.

“Got room for one more on there?” His partner asks, and Daryl doesn’t have to think twice about shifting forward enough that Shane can climb on behind him. Familiar arms slip about his waist as he leans back into him, reaching back to silently bring Shane’s feet to a safe resting place. It feels a little bit like misbehaving to have Shane on the bike with him, almost as if he’s sticking it to Merle by doing it, but he’d told his brother what it was between himself and Shane, and he knows since Shane is the reason the bike is back with him; he deserves to go for a ride on it.

It’s so easy to fall naturally back into place on the bike. To find his seat and find the comfortable grip on the handlebars, to feel like he’d never left it at all. Shane fits behind him perfectly, almost as if he was always meant to be there after all. The arms around his waist aren’t constricting, they’re not holding him back, but instead giving him support to move forward, to take the next step and not fear it. When Shane presses up against his back, he can feel the cool weight of the stone pendant on the necklace against him, heavy and real, permanent. It feels right. This right here, feels like it’s where he’s meant to be right now. Revving the bike a little he braces himself for it, ready to feel that rush he’s missed so damned much these past few months.

With the steady weight of Shane against his back, he leans back into it, enjoying the reassuring warmth and how Shane’s grip is a constant around his waist. A kiss is pressed to his neck before a chin hooks over his shoulder, Shane speaking quietly to him but just loud enough to be heard over the hum of the bike. “You ready for this?” His partner asks and Daryl thinks it’s a question he’s been unsure of for most of his life.

But right here, right now, with Shane beside him, holding him, ready to be his strength, ready to be there for him and not wanting to let go; he thinks he might just know the answer now. After months of desperate release, of surviving together, of sharing whiskey, late night laughs about never have I ever, stupid dreams about peanut butter and nutella, plans for a vacation to the beach, months of sharing body heat, then sharing so much more, of swapping the original necklace back and forth, whispered promises to not leave each other, losing each other, finding each other again, killing for the people they care about, taking off shirts and sharing scars, pressing foreheads together silently and knowing what it meant; falling into something with each other. Their something. After all these past months of having something so new and frightening to wade through overwhelming him, Daryl thinks he might just have the answer he’s been looking for his whole life.

Leaning back he manages to angle them just so, just enough that he can press a kiss to Shane’s lips and feel the natural press back from the other man. For a moment they pause, Shane shifts enough to press their foreheads together and Daryl can’t help but smile properly, fully, for the first time in a long time. “Yeah.” He finally replies, eyes locked with Shane’s, and hoping the other man feels as complete as he does right now. “Yeah I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's finally finished! The last chapter was a bit of a fic in and of itself, I just couldn't seem to stop writing about them both, and a part of me is so upset that it has to end. But there will be a midquel and a sequel to this fic, because my WoD AU ideas are never ending and I love playing with it too much. The biggest thank you have to go to Elle and Saya, who have kept me going when thing were tough and been there for me through everything, this fic has brought us all closer as friends and I appreciate it a lot. You guys are the best. Also want to thank Masa and Mel for being awesome Sharyl supporters and welcoming me into the pairing with open arms, always ready to listen to my Sharyl babbling now matter what time it is. Special shout outs go to LostInWonder, InkinmyTea, loves_music17, rising_earth, violet_rose, rockingthebeat, senoia, Illere and everyone else out there who has read the fic, left comments, given kudos and enjoyed it. It's been a pleasure writing for you all, this fic means a lot to me and it's been great being able to share this with all of you. Thank you all again so, so much, and hopefully it won't be too long before the midquel is up and ready to drag you all back into the WoD AU. Love you all! <3 xxx

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Never have I ever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831730) by [yvonne_tsugu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvonne_tsugu/pseuds/yvonne_tsugu)




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